


Devil May Cry 5: Bloodlines

by TCOOKIES777



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Brotherhood, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, Gen, Kyrie actually does something, Morrison is black here too, Sex with a demon, Sons of Sparda, characters from the anime, demon twins, following the trailers as best I can, good dose of cheesiness, juicy ripe lemon, lots of cussing, novel is canon, supernatural pregnancy, use of devil breakers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-07-08 08:51:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 56,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15927002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TCOOKIES777/pseuds/TCOOKIES777
Summary: “This power belongs to me.” A raspy voice croaked out, mixing in with Nero’s screams.Seeking the demon who stole his Devil Bringer, Nero journeys into the heart of Red Grave City, hellbent on vengeance and determined to find the source of the demon attacks. Along the way, he investigates the origins of the Demon Tree that's been harvesting human blood for unknown purposes with the help of Nico Goldstein, granddaughter of the famed weaponsmith, Nell Goldstein, and demon investigator Morrison, a friend of Dante. With the mysterious disappearance of the Son of Sparda, the fate of the mortal world falls on Nero's shoulders once more, along with a mysterious V. It's hard to find that son of a bitch who stole his arm when Nero also has to save the world and make sure to come back home to Kyrie in (hopefully) one full piece.Now then.. It's time to get this party started!





	1. The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> **WARNING! PLEASE READ!**
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> **THIS FANFIC CONTAINS BITS OF SPOILERS OF THE LEAKED PROLOGUE.**
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> **HOWEVER, I AM NOT USING _EVERY_ DETAIL FROM THE LEAK.**
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> **SO YOU WILL NOT BE ABLE TO TELL WHICH DETAIL IS FROM THE LEAK AND WHICH DETAIL IS JUST SOMETHING I MADE UP FOR THE FANFIC.**
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> **NOT UNLESS YOU HAVE ACTUALLY WATCHED THE LEAK ITSELF.**
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> **THIS IS JUST MY OWN TAKE ON DEVIL MAY CRY 5 BASED ON THE TRAILERS/INFO RELEASED (with a mix of leaked details) WHILE WE WAIT FOR DMC 5 TO RELEASE.**

            “—the staff here says that they haven’t seen anything close to the sheer volume of casualties. Severely injured and frightened civilians are pouring into St. Gabriel’s hospital at this moment. And we’re told that most of the injuries are stab wounds aimed specifically towards the torso. Just a moment ago, we spoke to a doctor that has been on call since this evening when the patients arrived.”

            The camera cut to an older man wearing a scrub uniform that was once blue but now covered in layers of blood. Scarlet red smeared his hands with a dark coagulation coating the fingertips. The doctor’s ebony skin glistened with sweat and blood-shot eyes were wide with shock and fear as he spoke. “There have been many complications. Every patient has suffered a copious loss of blood and we are currently low on O blood, which is the universal donor. Other cities are sending aid and resources as we speak. All of our surgeons have been called in to repair damaged tissues or organs but the wounds have been so severe. We have noticed extreme swelling around the injuries.. It’s as if the assailant was.. was attempting to _drain_ the victim’s blood. We are.. Still not sure as to what could have caused such damage to any person. We’ve never seen any animal attack like this.”

            “Have there been any fatalities?” The reporter spoke into the microphone for a moment before offering it to the doctor.

            “I—uh.. Ex-excuse me, please.” The doctor gave a shaky smile as he slipped away from the camera view to respond to another urgent call.

            “This is terrible..” Murmured a young, beautiful woman with a curtain of copper hair running down her back. She sat on the couch beside a handsome man about her age, letting him wrap an arm around her shoulder in comfort.

            The man would have looked like any regular human being save for two defining features. His cropped hair was as pale as snow, matching the chill blue of his eyes. What was most noticeable was the abnormal appendage he had for a right arm, resting casually atop of the armchair. In place of human flesh was a layer of indigo scales that trailed from the man’s upper arm down to the tips of his fingers. His palm and the back of his hand were of a thinner layer of translucent flesh that glowed a bright cerulean.

            The arm of a demon.

            Gentle, caramel eyes turned to the man with worry. “What sort of animal would attack a group of people like that, Nero?”

            The young man flexed his demon arm, staring at it solemnly. “Kyrie.. I don’t think it was an animal that attacked them.”

            Nero met Kyrie’s concerned gaze and they both arrived to the same conclusion.

            _Demons._

            “In Redgrave City?” Kyrie asked. Her sweet, lilting voice quivered in fear slightly.

            She’d experienced her fair share of nightmares with demons several years ago back when they’d lived in Fortuna City. Scarecrows had repeatedly terrorized the isolated town of religious followers for years until a so-called Savior took the lead. It was the truth of Sanctus that had ultimately broke the Order of Sparda, of which Nero and Kyrie had been members of.

            Nero himself hadn’t been a devout follower like the others, but he sought to protect the town Kyrie cherished. Ever since Dante’s arrival and the truth of the Order revealed, demons had been scarce in number and rare in attacks. Eventually, Nero had saved up enough earnings from his own Devil May Cry branch, and used the cash to buy one-way tickets off their home island. To start a fresh life with the one who mattered most to him.. They’d settled in a new house and Nero had been exuberant with Kyrie’s reaction to moving.

            The moment she stepped through the threshold of their new home, her face had brightened inexplicably. Fortuna was their home.. but it had stopped being their home once the Order was revealed to be nothing but a group of hypocrites and liars. Remaining Order fanatics were too scared to touch Nero, but that didn’t stop them from going after Kyrie, who was too kind and pure to defend her pride. Everyone in town knew Kyrie was Nero’s lover, but the Order fanatics only saw her as the lover of a demon. And so they would spit in her direction and call her promiscuous slurs. “Whore” was the most popular insult. They believed she’d been seduced by the devil prince himself, Nero. While distasteful, Nero also thought it was ironic, considering how Sparda—the god they’d so revered—had loved a human. He doubted those fanatics would have dared to call Sparda’s lover a whore.

            Kyrie simply smiled it off while Nero would fume at anyone who so much as looked at her the wrong way. Sometimes, his anger would get the best of him and Kyrie would grab his demon arm and gently rub the scaled knuckles to calm him down, eliciting that familiar golden glow of his arm.

            ‘They just don’t understand.’ Kyrie had once said to him. It had taken a while for Nero to see that she was right; that those fanatics were nothing more than a bunch of pitiful souls, blinded by their own arrogance and held back by ignorance at the same time.

            Thankfully, Redgrave City was modern and more liberal compared to the strict, conservative Fortuna City where everyone knew everyone’s business and shamed those who did not abide. Although they had chosen to live at the Red Grave’s borders, away from the bustling heart of the city life, here, they could live peacefully without fear of their neighbor knowing their activities. Here, Kyrie was free to go out without having insults spit her way. She could take a walk to her favorite little coffee shop where Nero and her had their first date together. He could buy anniversary flowers without the shopkeeper ogling his arm. They could breathe without drawing the scrutiny and judgement of anyone. In Redgrave City, people minded their own business and left the young couple to their own devices.

            It was a breath of fresh air that the two young lovers deserved..

            And now the stench of demons was polluting that fresh air.

            “It’s got to be demons.” Nero said, staring at the news anchor on the T.V. His Devil Bringer hummed faintly, as if in confirmation.

            Ever since the defeat of Sanctus and the closure of the Hell Gates, his arm had gradually developed over time. Red scales had deepened into a burgundy until darkening into an inky sapphire. In another time, Nero would have kept that arm bandaged and hidden from sight. Now, all that bothered him was the fact that his arm hadn’t glowed since the final fight with Sanctus. Not even the demons that had helped pay off the house’s mortgage had been powerful enough to warrant a single throb of the demon appendage. Not that Nero minded much. The easier the job, the quicker he could return home. And that meant more free time to himself together with Kyrie.

            “Those poor people…” Kyrie tightened a hand over her chest, the gold band on her ring finger glinting under the lamplight. She turned to Nero, doe brown eyes glittering with a mix of hope and worry. “You’re going, aren’t you?”

            It was more of a statement than a question, what with both of them knowing the answer.

            “Somebody has to.” Nero looked away, unable to meet her gaze for too long. It made him unhappy to see her in any state but happiness. Worse, when he was the cause. His human hand grabbed the remote, thumb jabbing at the button repeatedly, flipping through news channels to find that cooking show Kyrie was so invested in.

            A slender hand grasped his, forcing him to lower the controller back down on his lap. Kyrie cupped his cheek, guiding Nero’s face to return to hers. Soft fingers danced across his chiseled jawline, rubbing at the bit of stubble he’d yet to take care of. Slowly, Nero took her hand, pressing the smooth palm against his lips until her pulse relaxed somewhat. “Dante… isn’t coming back, Kyrie. Whatever happened to the old man… I’m the only one who can do this.”

            Shortly after moving into Red Grave City, Nero had tried to contact Dante. It had been mostly Kyrie’s idea to invite the seasoned devil hunter for a visit. At least to thank him for the business sign. Several years passed without a single reply, even as Nero’s branch boomed with success. Perhaps the son of Sparda had retired. Or—and the idea nagged at the back of Nero’s mind for years, even till this day—the devil hunter had left for a mission of which he would never return from.

            “Those people need you. I know.” Kyrie nodded, relinquishing a smile to the young warrior. She stood up after a quick caress of his cheek. “I’ll call Nico then.”

            “Tell her to bring the equipment.” Nero added, following Kyrie into the kitchen to do the dishes as she fixed the place. “We’ll finish the work on the car tomorrow. Need to get that alternator checked. We’ll leave tomorrow night.”

            With a nod, Kyrie grabbed the landline. Dialed little beeps and the clanking of dishes filled the quiet house for a moment. Finally, a Southern-accented voice answered the phone with a gruff, “Hello?”

            Nero scrubbed a stubborn spot on the pot with determination as he listened to Kyrie speak softly into the phone, explaining the situation and how the schedule would have to be moved up in advance.

            It seemed the demon attacks were growing each night. The more victims, the stronger the demons became. If the reports were true, then the demons were practically harvesting humans for their blood. An evacuation of the hub city had already commenced with most people fleeing to the borders for shelter. Strike teams were being sent into the heart of the city but any single member had yet to return alive.

            “I guess I’ll pack food for your trip?” Kyrie finished the call with a sigh. “I was planning to cook meals for the relief effort and visit the orphanages anyway.”

            “You might have to double the servings. Nico likes to steal some of my share.” Smirking, Nero glanced back to find Kyrie smiling wryly in return. “As soon as I find out what’s up, I’ll give you a call.”

            Shortly after Nero had set up shop, it had become a thing to call Kyrie every chance he had while out on a mission. Not just to ease Kyrie’s worries, but also to give Nero a break and just listen to her voice. So affectionate and tender, like a gentle breeze that whistled in your ear whenever you walked a bit fast. He didn’t socialise with many people, especially while out on a mission—unless it was necessary. The most conversation he made while on a mission—besides with Nico—were with demons who had enough intelligence to be able to belch out threats of death and endless torture. Not exactly an ideal conversation starter.

            “You don’t have to if you’re too busy, Nero.”

            “Nah, you know I want to. Listening to those demons screech about how they’re going to drag me to hell always gives me a headache. And the big guys like to run their mouths off! Their egos match their size. They make heavy metal sound like church music. Calling you is my only reprieve from all that cacophony.”

            “Maybe I should have gotten you some ear plugs rather than that necklace.” Kyrie suggested, full mouth tilting up at the corner as she eyed the pendant lying against his sternum.

            “Hey, this is my good luck charm!” Nero protested.

            He wasn’t one to put his faith in objects or people, but the necklace was a gift from Kyrie that Nero cherished more than she knew. Sometimes, a mission would run afoul or extend for weeks rather than days. Yet, the necklace was always there to remind Nero of what he had to come home to—and of whom awaited him.

            “I suppose you wouldn’t need ear plugs.” Kyrie’s smile widened. “Not when you love to hear Red Queen purr in your hands.”

            “Red Queen can’t beat the sound of your voice, Kyrie.”

            The young devil hunter’s lover was quiet for a long moment before murmuring, “I just… have a bad feeling about this, Nero.”

            The demon appendage gripping the pink sponge continued humming in agreement. Nero sighed, “Me too, Kyrie.”

 

* * *

 

            “Told ya Morrison wouldn’t be able to meet up.” Nico spoke from beneath the belly of the business van, wrench in hand and creeper at her back. “Says he’s gotta meet with another client.”

            “What other client could he have?” Nero stood, leaning over the propped hood of the vehicle, making sure all the parts were good to go. After dinner, they’d be departing for the sites of the demon attacks. Nero had hoped to get in touch with Morrison for more information. The investigator had better networking skills than the devil hunter and could hook Nero up with the best kind of reconnaissance. All it took was a wad of cash and a bag of Kyrie’s homemade chocolate chip cookies (the kind that melted in your mouth). If not, they might have no choice but to pull some info from the security force (the city’s poor attempt to neutralize the building rate of demon attacks).

            “Beats me.” Nico grunted out of view. “Betcha he’s got a date.”

            “Morrison.” Nero paused, resting an elbow on the edge to peer over at his partner. “On a date? While people are getting farmed by demons?”

            “Hey,” The creeper’s wheels squeaked until Nico’s freckled face appeared. “You won the girl while your home city was in the middle of its own apocalypse. Enjoyed that victory kiss at the end, did ya?”

            Nero returned his attention to the van’s engine, knowing Nico was grinning at him. How she’d pried the story out of Kyrie, Nero could easily guess. “Did he give a name?”

            The Southern Belle let out a low whistle. “Don’t make the missus jealous now. Yeah, the name’s Becky. Becky with the real pretty hair—no, ‘course he didn’t give a name! But I saw a bit o’ wrinkled parchment tucked in his front pocket. Think there was a letter V there but I ain’t sure.”

            “V…” Nero muttered. His chest tightened with disappointment but, what had he expected? Even Morrison hadn’t been in contact with Dante, reaffirming Nero’s suspicions of his former ally’s fate. Perhaps the demon hunter had bit off more than he could chew. A shame….

            “All right, this baby’s ready to mow down some demons tonight.” Nico rolled out, rubbing at her nose and smearing more grease across her face. Kyrie would make sure the both of them washed up properly before sitting down at the dinner table.

            “Y’know, I’m starting to think that accident last time was no accident, what with the way you drive.”

            “Business calls,” Nico said, “and I answer. If you’d rather I endure the traffic on the way to you, then suit yourself. It ain’t my fault Kyrie had to fix you up after that motorcycle stunt you pulled—bet you enjoyed the missus playing doctor with you though.”

            Before Nero could come up with a retort, Kyrie’s voice echoed from the top of the stairs, “Dinner’s ready, go ahead and wash up!”

            “Coming!” Nero answered instead, mouth watering at the delectable scent of herbs and sauce wafting into the garage.

            “I’m gonna go have a dinner date with your wife now.” Nico rolled back out with a smirk.

            “As I recall,” Nero scratched the back of his head, pretending to think, “it’s _me_ who comes home to Kyrie after a long day of work.”

            Chuckling, Nico wiped the inky grease off her hands with a rag before throwing it at the devil hunter who caught it with a claw without looking. “By the way, you might wanna check the spark plug. Needs to be replaced.”

            “Still doubt Morrison’s got a date!” Nero shouted as the craftswoman’s worn boots thumped on the staircase.

            “Then I wonder how _you_ ever got with Kyrie!” She shouted back.

            Shaking his head, Nero drew his focus to the car parts before him. The sun was already going down, casting its dying light into the garage and giving him just enough to study the spark plug Nico had mentioned.

            “What?” Nero muttered, hearing Nico’s steps subside on her way for a hot, delicious meal of beef stroganoff. Strange, he was sure the spark plug had already been re—ah, damn that Nico. Of course she would try to get a head start for the dinner table. It was easier to sneak in a larger serving that way. Well, didn’t matter; Kyrie always cooked a feast. A habit she’d developed during her time aiding orphanages and shelters.

            Just as he was about to close the car hood, the hairs on the back of his neck pricked up. Sensing a presence nearby, Nero peered over his shoulder, squinting at the partially open garage door where the setting sunlight peeked through, pouring into the garage space. On the other side of the garage door, a pair of legs blocked a bit of the fiery spray of light, cutting twin paths of darkness against the floor. Nero wasn’t sure if the pants were supposed to be black or if they were stained with dirt, but he was sure the stranger wasn’t living so comfortably if he or she was dressed in such a poor state.

            “You need something?” Using the towel Nico had thrown earlier, Nero wiped his hands and stepped off the stool. “Not a car shop, but I got some tools if you need to borrow?”

            The stranger remained silent and still.

            Grabbing the toolbox by a wheel, Nero began returning the tools Nico had left out in her hurry to get her share of food. The clink of metal filled the silence as Nero awaited the stranger’s answer. Had the person overheard their conversation? Kyrie often attended homeless shelters with supplies of fresh meals. Maybe someone had followed her back? Nero had learned long ago that Kyrie tended to attract many secret admirers of all backgrounds, much to his displeasure. Still, if the stranger was in need of help, it wouldn’t be on Nero’s good conscience to ignore the person.

            “What is it? You hungry?” Nero asked, knowing Kyrie would have instantly invited the stranger in for a meal. He knew their neighbors in the city would never dare to let a stranger in their house. Good thing for Kyrie, she had Nero. And no human would dare to mess with the seasoned devil hunter who bore the power of a renowned bloodline, let alone take advantage of his lover. “My wife cooks the best meals you’ll ever have in your life, pal, trust me. Kyrie made beef stroganoff for dinner. You ever tried that?.”

            Still no response.

            Did the guy not smell the glorious aroma filling the house? No sane person with an appetite could resist that.

            “Can’t guarantee dessert though. The strawberry sundae ice cream is Kyrie’s.” Nero knelt down to lock the toolbox, figuring the stranger would have spoken up earlier if he did need the stuff. “She’s been craving ice cream a lot lately, so try not to take it to heart if she doesn’t offer any. We’re on the last tub too, so we gotta re.. stock.. soon….”

            Nero trailed off when a shadow rose across the toolbox, stretching ahead of him from behind. A strong shiver of discomfort ran down his back and he instantly stood up, pivoting to face the hooded figure now just within an arm’s reach.

            Suddenly, the Devil Bringer throbbed sharply, like a heartbeat pounding back to life, and he flicked his eyes to his arm, sucking in a sharp breath at the jarring sensation. It’d been years since he’d last felt like this, but Nero could never forget the warning that each burning throb carried. And as soon as the cerulean skin of his Devil Bringer lit up like a flare, Nero flicked his attention back to the man covered in rags.

            This man….

            “You’re a demon.” Nero breathed, narrowing his eyes.

            A powerful demon at that. Nero had been so relaxed in the space of his own home that he hadn’t sensed the tension rolling off the man in question until now. Just the faintest whiff of sulfur invaded the homely smell of food. Instinctively, his body tensed up, every nerve alight with fire, hands beginning to ball into fists for a fight—

            “Nero,” Kyrie’s sweet, teasing voice came from the doorway behind the him, “Nico is going to start stealing off your plate if you don’t co—”

            “KYRIE,” Nero shouted, turning to his lover and holding a hand up to stop her from coming any closer, “GET BACK INSIDE, NOW!”

            He saw her amber eyes widen just as a hand wrapped tightly around his scaly arm. The room swirled a dizzying 360 degrees as Nero felt his body be lift from the ground by the bone of his arm. Canisters and storage boxes were crushed by his weight once he slammed against a metal shelf, forcing a loud grunt from him. His right arm felt a bit lighter when Nero fell face first onto the smooth coating of the garage floor, supplies tumbling around him.

            His arm was throbbing again, more insistently like a painful itch he couldn’t scratch. Peering up, Nero squinted once more at the figure, trying to get a look at the face beneath the hood. Before he could identify the attacker, something bright blue glowed at the corner of his eye and Nero turned his focus to the demon appendage the man now held. His mind blanked with shock at the recognition. Somewhere between his throat and chest, his breath remained stuck as Nero turned his head inch by agonizing inch to find his right arm only partially there, and the entire Devil Bringer gone.

            The wrongful sight of his arm missing seemed to finally wake him up and suddenly burning needles of pain stabbed at the gorey stump of his limb, ripping out a distressed cry from Nero’s lips as he gripped what remained of his arm. It was like a fire poker had been used to prod and grind where his arm had been ripped off, stoking spikes of excruciating pain. Hot blood spurted out from the severed arteries, staining the white shards of ivory bone peeking out between shredded flesh and muscle. The red arced away from his body, spilling onto the grey, polished floor of the garage to form a ruby pool that glistened beneath the last few rays of sun.

            “This belongs to me.” A raspy voice croaked out, mixing in with Nero’s screams. The cloaked figure turned his back on the man still writhing in a pool of his own blood.

            Nero could barely see through the glare of the light and dark haze of pain, watching as his own Devil Bringer transformed into Yamato in a wink of light.

            “The hell.. my arm belongs to you…” Nero gritted, sweeping his human hand across the hot, sticky blood to drag himself towards the thief. “Give.. that… _back!_ ”

            “I need this power.” The man mumbled more quietly this time, unsheathing the sword to reveal the polished long blade kept within. There was a high-pitched whine of the blade slicing through the air before a large ‘ ** _woosh!_** ’ followed. A dark space had ripped open in the middle of the garage.

            A portal.

            His tunnel vision darkening, Nero could do nothing but watch as the stranger stepped forward to disappear into the void he’d conjured with a few flicks of Yamato.

            “Son of a.. bi.. sssh...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading the intro! Next chapter will have us start diving into the main story once Nero departs for the city's heart.
> 
> Please leave a comment of what you thought! Knowing that people actually read my work keeps me motivated to publish more chapters faster.


	2. The Devil Hunters

            All of his blood had been scrubbed off the garage floor, giving the entire space a semblance of normality as if a demon hadn’t attacked days earlier. Still, the faint traces of bleach permeated the space despite the open garage door welcoming fresh air in.

            The young devil hunter always hated this part of the mission: having Kyrie send him off, the both of them reluctant to separate but knowing it was a necessary evil.

            Besides, no matter how many times his lover insisted, he would never allow her to accompany him on his trips. He would never forgive himself if she was ever put in danger again. Kyrie was the most important thing to him. Always had been ever since they’d laid eyes on each other all those years ago back in the orphanage. So he’d rather part with her a thousand times rather than one last time.

            “Please, Nero, are you certain you can’t spare one more day of rest? You barely just got released from the hospital.”

            “My business trip can’t wait any longer, Kyrie.” Nero replied back, passing another duffel bag of supplies to Nico for her to store away in the van. He didn’t dare mention that he had practically bolted from the hospital before the nurses could try to restrain him and keep him in bed longer. “I’m fine, anyway.”

            “But you’re not fine.” Kyrie insisted, taking a step closer to put a hand on his remaining one. The gold band of her wedding ring was warm on his calloused skin. She looked to the empty space of his right side, hand trailing down the bandaged shoulder. Her touch was so light, but it always made Nero feel so aware of where she was touching him. Just a single graze and he felt like a livewire. Despite their years together, she still managed to give him butterflies. Her voice was just as soft when she quietly asked, “Does it still hurt?”

            “Not anymore.” Nero answered, savoring her healing touch. Amber eyes twinkled up at him with concern and Nero couldn’t bare to admit that, yes, his wound still felt like it was being dipped in chili powder and pounded by a meat cleaver simultaneously. But it did feel better when she touched it.

            “Can’t say the same ‘bout his pride.” Nico popped her head out of the van to chime in.

            Ignoring her, Nero grabbed the case containing Red Queen. “Remember not to go out once it’s dark… And, in case of emergencies, you still remember how to draw that Wiccan protection circle? Hope that so-called priestess wasn’t just a sham…”

            “Nero, I’ll be fine.” Kyrie’s smile had a calming effect on the devil hunter. Out of habit, she touched the necklace resting atop of her bosom. “Worry about yourself. Whoever stole your arm must have needed your power for something far more powerful. Please be careful. This.. feels like how it was in Fortuna City…”

            Yeah, minus the fanatics worshipping the winged, artificial demons descending from the sky. Still, Kyrie was right; there was definitely more to these attacks. He was determined to find the man who stole his arm as well as whoever was behind this new demon invasion. Hopefully, it was the same person; kill two birds with one stone.

            “Then I’ll send those bloodsuckers back to hell, just like before.” Nero said, passing Red Queen over to Nico. That was the last of the baggage, and the sun was already setting. Best make haste before the demons come out. “I gotta go now, before I miss my cue.”

            “I packed your favorite.” Kyrie smiled wryly, hands twisting the skirt of her burgundy dress. “Do remember to share some with Nico, will you?”

            “Can’t promise you I won’t forget that.” Nero grinned, grabbing the swell of Kyrie’s hips to pull her against his taut body. Nose pressing against the pale column of her throat, he inhaled the familiar scent of cookies and something distinctively her. Something only his senses as a part demon could recognize from his mate. A primal scent that always led him right back to her. His Devil Bringer would be glowing a bright, fiery orange as an expression of his love, if only he still had it. “You know what I _can_ promise you?”

            “Mm?” Kyrie’s face was buried into the shoulder of his freshly pressed coat jacket, fingers threading through the short, silver locks at his nape. Her nails lightly grazed his scalp.

            _Damn, that hits the spot_ , Nero inwardly groaned.

            His grip on her waist tightened and he sucked in another whiff of her before continuing, “I can promise that I’ll return home. To you… And it’ll be like I never even left.”

            There was a pregnant pause, and then Kyrie drew back to raise her smallest finger.

            Nero’s brows shot up at the indication. “Really?”

            “You never broke your pinky promises when we were kids.” Kyrie bit her lip to hold back a giggle. “You can’t break one now.”

            “Fine.” Nero obliged, finger wrapping around his lover’s dainty pinky to seal the vow. “I promise to come back in one _whole_ piece.”

            “And then…” Kyrie’s voice was laced with hesitation.. and nervousness. Yet, Nero couldn’t help but notice how her face seemed to glow, cheeks rosy with excitement and eyes alight. “Nero, there’s something I have to tell you.”

            “Yeah?” Nero could hear Nico clearing her throat from her driver’s seat in the van.

            “I’ll tell you when you return home to me.” The sly smile Nero could see his wife trying to hold back only made him more anxious to know. “As promised.”

            “Or,” Nero drawled out, “you could tell me now.”

            “Mm-mm.” Caramel bangs swished side to side as Kyrie shook her head, still biting back a smile. “It’s best to know _after_ this whole ordeal.”

            Nero frowned, confused as to what could be so important that Kyrie felt the need to give him a heads up first, but not tell him? She knew he wasn’t so great at playing the bait and wait game. But whatever secret Kyrie was withholding from him, it had to be something unexpected. Something that Kyrie worried would distract Nero on his mission and that was why she insisted on divulging him after work.

            Still, he couldn’t help but worry over whatever it is that she was holding back from him. In a murmur, he began, “Kyrie…”

            “Ssshh.” The songstress whispered. There was a serene smile spreading her plush lips, and she tilted her face up to slowly gift him that smile as well. Soft, warm lips pressed against his mouth and Nero closed his eyes to relish the sensation and return the kiss with just as much love.

            “I love you.” Kyrie sighed against his mouth once she released him.

            “I love you too.” Nero mumbled back, tucking a stray caramel strand behind her ear before tugging gently on the end of the braid resting over her shoulder. Then he turned and signaled to Nico to start the engine.

            A low roar echoed within the space of the garage, escaping out into the driveway. The van continued to purr quietly as Nero trekked towards the passenger side, bandaged stump swinging casually with each step.

            Just as his right boot landed on the doorstep, he heard Kyrie cry his name aloud once more and Nero instantly pivoted around just in time to catch her in an embrace. Wordlessly, he cupped the back of her head, letting Kyrie’s arms wrap tightly around his torso to return the hug. The scent of warm cinnamon entwined with the scent of snow and pine.

            “Come back home to me, Nero.” Her voice was breathless like a gentle breeze that came and went. She squeezed him for one last hug before finally releasing him, taking several steps back to smile assuringly.

            With a firm nod, Nero turned and climbed into the passenger seat. Nico switched gears and the van started backing out of the driveway to enter the crisp night. The stars were already starting to peek out, but the city lights were too bright to fully enjoy Mother Nature’s gift. Nero kept his eye on the side view mirror, watching Kyrie’s form shrink as the car rolled farther down the street. When the figure raised a hand to wave farewell, Nero stuck a hand out the window to return the wave. Once the car crested over the hill and Kyrie disappeared from view, Nero sat back against his seat and propped his boots on the dashboard.

            The devil hunter expected that tonight would be a long, arduous one. The familiar scent of hot, creamy cinnamon rolls filling the business van lightened his mood, however.

 

* * *

 

            The van’s Devil May Cry sign had left a neon streak of blue in the dark of the night and Kyrie watched the neon light disappear at a distance. With a sigh, she turned to retreat into the garage. Before she could hit the switch to close the garage doors, a sharp pulse in the pit of her belly knocked the breath out of Kyrie. She sucked in a shaky breath, drawing a hand up to touch the small swell of her belly. “Don’t worry... Papa will be back soon.”

            She wasn’t sure if the baby within had developed far enough to be able to hear her.

            At three months along for her first pregnancy, Kyrie’s baby bump wasn’t so noticeable yet. The recent demon attacks developing these past weeks had drawn Nero’s attention and he hadn’t noticed the slight difference with Kyrie. Of course, he hadn’t complained at all when the garbage cans had begun filling up with cups of strawberry sundaes. And he was too polite to ask why the sudden cravings. It was almost amusing to see him so oblivious.

            Still, it wasn’t as easy to hide the soft glow emanating from her womb right now. Admittedly, she was quite shocked the first time she witnessed it last month. It had happened in the middle of the night when Nero had suddenly turned towards her in his sleep and laid his Devil Bringer across her stomach. The action had caused both his arm and her abdomen to glow softly as if in reaction to each other. And she’d been mesmerized by the way her womb seemed to pulse with light, resonating together with Nero’s appendage. And that was how she had discovered she was pregnant.

            Now, the light was muffled from the material of her dress, but small rays still peeked out from between Kyrie’s fingers. She had a feeling that the next time she would see her lover, she wouldn't be able to hide the secret any longer.

            “Ooh…” She breathed in and out slowly, pacing herself through the small light pulses echoing from her womb. “I know, I know…”

            This was the first time she’d felt like this. Everything had been normal until now, when Nero was departing. How strange.

            Caressing the swell beneath her dress, Kyrie murmured aloud for further reassurance—more for herself than the child she carried, “He’ll be back soon.”

 

* * *

 

            Nero knew they were nearing the center of Red Grave City once they hit the traffic. Luckily for the two partners, they were going _in_ —not out like the waves of cars on the other side of the road were. Families were stuffed in vehicles, crammed with whatever valuables they had time to bring. Border patrol maintained the flow of panicked city people seeking refuge. Men in tactical gear kept their rifles held close to their chest as they stood by the kiosks where yellow road bars rose up and down constantly. Large beams of light kept the area lit up, with several searchlights facing where the cars were pouring from to ensure no demons were escaping past the checkpoint.

            Studying the long lines of cars beeping and honking in a cacophony, Nero found a curious pair of eyes staring at him from one of the cars on the other side of the road divider.

            The little girl sitting in her booster seat kicked her feet up while maintaining her gaze with him, unfettered by the grave situation or perhaps just oblivious. Chocolate brown curls bounced as she suddenly started shaking the stuffed teddy bear in her hand. Then she turned the bear around to let it face Nero before moving its arms in a little dance.

            Memories of visiting orphanages with Kyrie flashed in his mind and he remembered how popular they always were with the kids. Although the Order members had always regarded him as antisocial, Nero never had problems interacting with children. No, he knew from experience how _not_ to treat them. And through Kyrie, he’d learned to love children.

            The corners of his mouth stretched into a smile for the little girl. Her chubby cheeks flushed seemingly with embarrassment, but Nero caught her giggling before she disappeared from view as the line of cars shifted forward.

            “You’re kidding me, right?” The officer at the kiosk desk looked incredulous behind the goggles covering the upper half of his face. “You want to go further _inside_ the city? Ma’am, you do realize there have been a rise in demon attacks and that there’s a giant tree sucking the blood out of people?”

            “Sounds like my kind of party.” A deep voice replied from the other side of the driver’s seat.

            The man leaned down slightly to squint at the owner of the cocky voice, finding a pair of dark boots scuffed with dirt and scratches propped up on the dashboard. He followed the trail up jean-clad legs, a strong torso, and broad shoulders until he found a pair of chill blue eyes staring right back at him.

            “My partner here is looking for a man. Thief took off with his favorite arm.” Nico grinned at the officer, one hand holding a burning cigarette and the other hand gripping the steering wheel. She nodded to her side where Nero raised his bandaged stump for proof.

            “You wouldn’t happen to have seen him, maybe? Skinny pal in rags—looks like a homeless, katana-wielding bum who gets triggered by the smell of beef stroganoff?” Nero chimed in with a smirk.

            “No.” The officer replied in a flat tone. Unamused, he held out a gloved hand, “I need to see some identification.”

            “Devil May Cry,” Nico said, handing over two badges, “at your service.”

            “H-Holy shit!” The officer’s eyes widened into saucers the moment he peered at the two cards in his hands. “You—you’re that famous devil hunter!”

            “And his partner in crime.” Nero added, eliciting an eye roll from the said woman beside him.

            “Sorry, sir, I—I didn’t think you existed. We’ve never seen.. your kind before.” The officer stammered, jamming his hand back out the window to return the I.D.s. He slammed a button on the panel before him and the yellow bar blocking the van began to rise. “There’s been reports of a sighting down at Wellsburg Avenue. A strike team was sent in not too long ago to assist in the evacuation and neutralize the threat. You might wanna check that out.”

            “Thanks. Wouldn’t want to be late to the party.” Nero responded with a quick, two-finger salute as Nico drove forward.

 

* * *

 

            A chill wind carried away the smell of burnt coffee with a hint of cinnamon, comparable to hot chocolate or French toast with a bit of Cedar. In this little darkened corner of the city, where the fires of hell or monsters of darkness had yet to terrorize, a lone lamplight stood at the side of the street, basking two people in a halo of light.

            “It’s nice to finally meet you.” The man spoke through a puff of smoke, lowering the thick cigar situated between two fingers. “So, you’re V.”

            “Disappointed?” The figure asked, letting the midnight hood conceal the thick crown of ebony hair framing his young face.

            Morrison stepped away from the lamp post he’d been leaning against. The Homburg hat he wore cast a shadow over the cocoa skin of the investigator, silver strands of his beard glinting beneath the artificial light. The shadow shifted when his head tipped down, slowing rising back up as he assessed the young man before him.

            It was silent in this part of the city. Abandoned by its residents, but safe, for now. It wouldn’t be silent for too long, and both men were fully aware of that. Yet, it was their first time meeting one another and caution was a necessity.

            “Where's your.. butterfly?” The investigator inquired, scrutinizing the sky from beneath the brim of his hat. The stars were barely visible, he noticed.

            “Bird.” V corrected him. “On an errand.”

            Aware of how purposely ambiguous the answer was, Morrison chose not to dwell on the matter. Whatever creature that V commanded, it had proven itself to be far more intelligent than normal for.. well, a bird. He knew, without a doubt, that it had been used as a messenger of sorts to leave the parchment paper for the investigator to find. Clues and mysterious one-liners to lead him here. It could have been a trap, but….

            “I’ll admit,” Morrison smiled slightly, eyes lingering on the crystal necklace hanging over the person’s tattooed torso, “I was expecting someone older.. clad in red—preferably leather. Wields a ridiculously large sword and thinks he’s a ladies man. He is—”

            “—awfully handsome.” A gruff voice of steel cut through the quiet night. Both men turned their heads sharply at the pitch black alley across them. The crystal necklace around V’s neck glowed faintly. “Honestly, Morrison, you really know how to make a demon blush.”

            “Well, speak of the devil.” Morrison shook his head, chuckling in amazement as he watched the figure step forward from the shadows, entering the halo of light surrounding the street lamp. “Took quite a vacation, did you?”

            The snow-haired man looked worse for wear. The pallor of his skin looked almost sickly, as if he hadn’t seen the light of day for quite a long time. The beginnings of an unruly beard couldn’t cover what was an undeniably handsome face, however, and no amount of age could ever ruin that unnatural beauty. He turned fully around, nice and slow, to show off his entire figure. “Like my new tan?”

            “You look like a ghost.” Morrison smiled wryly, knowing that his old friend was aware of how he appeared, and just how many years he’d been absent. There were many questions the demon investigator had, but that was a long story to be told later.

            “And you are?” The gold, intricate handle of V’s cane glinted as he raised it defensively.

            “Woah there, kid, you haven’t even bought me dinner yet!” The devil hunter cracked a grin and V frowned in hesitance, wondering if this man was right in the head or a crazy bum who had stumbled into the wrong alley. “Now, pizza—”

            “This idiot is Dante.” Another voice interrupted. A woman stepped forward to Dante’s side. One wine eye and a cyan eye stared firmly at both men, unblinking, like a silent challenge. The rocket launcher strapped at her side only made that challenge more obvious, the jagged blade winking lethally. V tried not to stare at the scar bridging her nose. “I’m Lady, and this is Kalina Ann.”

            V scanned the area, seeking the other person mentioned.

            “She means her weapon.” A blonde, scantily clad woman appeared forth, resting an arm atop of Dante’s shoulder. Both hands carried a polished black pistol with the words ‘Luce & Ombra’ engraved on the side. “Trish. Long time no see, Morrison. Love the suit.”

            “Always a pleasure.” The devil hunter’s friend tipped his hat respectively at the group.

            “You? You’re Dante?” Incredulity made the hooded figure sound younger, almost innocent. “You’re the famous devil hunter? The son of Sparda?”

            “Like what you see?” The devil hunter placed his hands on the hips to proudly display himself. “I’ll give you an autograph later.”

            “Is anyone else hiding in the shadows?” V squinted farther back into the alley as if hoping for someone who looked less like a homeless bum and more like a dark knight. “Or do you guys like to enter the spotlight one by one?”

            “Well, he sounds fun.” Lady glanced over to her other female companion.

            Trish gave the young man a once over, icy eyes lingering on the inky tattoos scrawled all over his body before her full lips curled at the corners. “Probably going through a phase from the looks of it.”

            At the side, Morrison coughed.

            “It’s all part of the gig, kid. You’ll learn soon enough.” Dante shrugged casually. The fall of his footsteps was heavy and slow, but his stride was determined. When he spoke, it was as if years of experience and travesty had hardened his voice, scratching away at the youth of it to let its gravelly sound peek through. He looked like a crazy old man, grinning, but the piercing blue eyes seemed to burn right into V’s soul. “Now, tell us about this tree guy who calls himself the Demon King.”

            “... Very well... His name,” V drew back his hood, revealing a young face on the brink of adulthood with full lips and large eyes that had yet to see the true horrors of the world, “is Urizen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think so far! 
> 
> This is my first DMC fanfic, so I'm still getting used to writing Dante's character.


	3. Welcome to Red Grave City

            The bright neon lights that laced the buildings of the technological city threw a splash of color over the plain shades of the van. Years ago, when Nero had purchased the ivory vehicle, he’d thought of himself and Kyrie in mind, despite knowing the car would only be used for business. And that was how the Devil May Cry van had ended up with a section of muted teal at the bottom with a strip of caramel in the middle to separate from the creamy white. The interior decoration had been done at the hands of Nico, with a few ideas from Kyrie. Metal parts and tools shook within the cabinet walls at the back where a workbench had been added. A little hammock net hanging just behind the driver’s seat secured a few personal items. A mini-fridge was positioned a few feet away from where Nero sat, surrounded by posters, a coffee machine, a dart board, and other items and trinkets they’d added over the years. To this day, he still wasn’t sure where the name “Minotaurus” had come from, but the bumpers were already labeled.

            The fuzzy dice hanging on the rearview mirror swung wildly as the car hit another pothole, jolting the occupants for the umpteenth time. For all the modernity and tech savvy culture this city boasted, it couldn’t spare a few projects to improve the city’s infrastructure?

            Speaking of tech savvy…

            “Thought you fixed this piece of junk last time?” Nico’s cigarette shook between her lips as she spoke around it, one hand steering through the narrow streets and the other hand playing with the police scanner they’d made with parts of the car’s radio.

            “I did.” Nero watched the numbers on the dashboard flicker through, rising and falling as his partner flipped through the channels impatiently. “Try a higher frequency.”

            He turned his attention to the silver pistol on his lap, fingering the little blue rose insignia engraved by the trigger. The six-chamber revolver had evolved over the years for a faster firing rate and extended range. He’d also modified it to be able to equip special multi-hit bullets that dealt an explosive impact when charged up, although the kickback was something he was still working on.

            “Despacito— ** _KSHHH_** —”

            “Tune in at 106.9 for— ** _KSHHH_** —”

            “All I wanna do is just hold somebody— ** _KSHHH_** —”

            “Light showers can be expected...”

            Ignoring the static noise of the radio that cut in between every change of the channel, Nero glanced out the window to study the resident buildings they were passing through to reach the West District farther into the city. Many of the houses were modern and leaning towards the high-tech richness of the people who could afford to live near a large center of tech industries.

            It was a huge contrast to the simple, modest home the devil hunter shared with his lover. A pleasant, two-story house with pale blue shillings to top the roof. He’d recently given their white picket fence a fresh coat of paint to compliment the row of roses Kyrie had planted. Neither of them bothered for more than what was necessary, but it was Kyrie who ensured that the home was as welcoming as can be. Simple details like organized pots of herbs and spices on the kitchen shelves; a few bowls of water on the porch for any stray animal; dainty lace curtains to let the sun sprinkle through; a shelf holding a book collection they’d built over the years; a half-finished canvas painting in the corner; a card game they’d left unfinished; an open book on the coffee table; and just enough plush couches and chairs to entertain themselves and any guests.

            Observing the housing within the city, however, Nero couldn’t fathom why people would want most of their home to be made of glass. Where was the privacy? The protection? And some of these houses were large enough to shelter several families. Yet, there were certain features of the residence that reminded Nero of the homes in Fortuna. The wrought iron fence gates that boxed people in—or kept people out. Tall lamp posts that seemed to be of a more old-fashioned design but used electricity more efficiently. And the dull brown colors of brick red or dirty white. Modernity aged with traces of the old ways.

            Hearing Nico continue to grumble beside him, Nero reached out to give the radio a solid smack on top.

            “Dispatch 108— ** _KSSHHH_** —” Nico twisted the dial.

            “Bang! Bang! Bang! Pull my devil—”

            “Wait, go back!” Nero sharply instructed his partner, having Nico quickly dial down two frequencies to return to the former channel she’d accidentally flipped through. The two of them listened intently to the transmission their makeshift police scanner had picked up.

            “Adam-twelve, ten-nine, did you say it’s a ten-nine-one-E?”

            “ ** _KSSSHHHH_** — ** _KRRRKK_** —Ten-fifty-three!” The man’s voice raised in volume and, in the background, explosions and bursts of gunfire could be heard. Someone screamed nearby before getting cut off. “Ten-fifty... Code... I re... ode Eight!”

            “Adam-twelve, ten-four—”

            “O-Oh god…” Nero picked up on the panic in the man’s trembling voice and could practically see the demons the officer was seeing right now, “they’re... they’re _demons_! I’m seeing them with my own eyes! R-Red Grave is completely taken over!”

 

* * *

   

            “Let us pray for mercy.” The female news anchor spoke solemnly on the television screen, the horror in her eyes reflecting what she was witnessing from the reporter on site. “This.. is a trial from the heavens above…”

            The four wings of her pendant dug into Kyrie’s palms as she clutched her necklace tightly, letting her gaze fall to the rosy crystal shielded by the golden wings. The sound of her heart thumping quickly echoed in Kyrie’s ears as she whispered softly through trembling lips, “ _Nero_ …”

            With thoughts of her lover in mind, she prayed to whichever god was out there somewhere, begging them to keep her beloved devil hunter safe and sound.

 

* * *

 

            The business van sped through the empty streets at top speed, leaving a stain of burned rubber on the ground and smears of sticky blood as the driver wove through the stray demons littering the road. Sharp squeals of the tires twisting and the engine letting out a low whine created a symphony over the little bits of transmission that came through the police scanner every few seconds. It was hard to distinguish where the screams were coming from at this point as the pair found the road becoming crowded with more and more demons farther on.

            Drawing his feet off the dashboard, Nero stuck his head out the window, closing his eyes and inhaling the stench of demon scum and smoke. Smog and something metallic permeated the nasty air as well, but it was a familiar setting to the seasoned hunter. A gig he performed countless times already. Opening his eyes, he peered up at the full moon and a slow smile crept across his face. He looked ahead of the road before sitting back against his chair, the smile twisting into an amused smirk. “What a nice welcoming committee we’ve got here.”

            “Huh.” Nico’s face was twisted in concentration, upper lip curling as she slammed another demon aside.

            “Hey!” Nero glanced at his partner when the next hit-and-run victim left a splash of blood over the hood on his side. “You have to hit every single bump in the road?”

            Nico simply laughed around her cigarette, brown eyes twinkling with adrenaline as she swerved the van side to side to hit the other individual demons scattered about. Up ahead, a swarm of them awaited the pair, and Nero was sure they would leave a whole new coat of unpleasant paint on the van if they just ran right through them. That was a sight he didn’t need Kyrie to see.

            “You’re on my crew!” Nero added before popping his head out, raising Blue Rose to pick off the demons up ahead one by one.

            Multiple pairs of beady, red eyes turned to glare at the devil hunter as soon as the first two bullets hit their target. The third shot went straight through the head of one of them hanging onto a street sign. Its bulbous head splattered against the white words, pincer-like mouth still gaping open.

            With dexterous skill, the craftswoman grunted as she pulled the steering wheel hard, forcing the van to drive up on an abandoned car parked aside. The makeshift ramp had the vehicle flying above the rest of the cars, tilting left to give the passenger enough momentum for a quick trip out. Without hesitation, Nero slid out of the passenger window to show the monstrous hosts his thanks by putting a bullet through each and every one of their hideous faces. Several of them leaped at his airborne figure, attempting to impale him on their spiky heads or spear him through with a clawed appendage.

            The devil hunter was no ordinary human, however, and they were soon proven wrong to dare oppose the young man when he dodged every clawed hand or gaping pincers with just the slightest shift.

            “Too slow!” He yelled when one of them tried to get the jump on him before eating two bullets point blank. Their faces split open, releasing bursts of blood that splashed onto the road or crashed cars around them.

            Flipping over, Nero braced his boots against the van’s windshield to steady himself as he shot one demon on his left and then another on his right. The tiny, black webs they had for wings did nothing to cushion their fall as Blue Rose blew them away, packing blow after blow wherever the bullets landed. He continued to twist and turn, defying gravity and time with supernatural speed and precision, using the Devil May Cry van as his own platform to perform on. Inside, Nico simply went with the flow, unbothered by the explosions all around, the pens and junk flying within the car, or the orange traffic cone zooming by her window.

            One more precisely placed bullet from Blue Rose had a minivan exploding before them, engulfing a group of demons in a cloud of gold flames and gasoline. The heat of the explosion barbecued their mutated corpses before they could release any wails of fury.

            In the blink of an eye, the devil hunter was already back in his seat and grinning in satisfaction before the van’s wheels could hit the pavement. He hoped their ‘thanks’ had been well received. “All in bullet time, baby.”

            “Show off.” Nico snorted, flicking the butt of her cigarette out the window to join the rest of the mess and destruction they’d left behind. As if on cue, another explosion echoed behind them, larger than the last one, like a grand finale of sorts.

            “This party’s just getting started.” Nero’s grin remained as he reloaded Blue Rose for another round, each bullet slipping easily from his fingers to fill the pistol’s chamber.

            The car continued onward, following the roots that were beginning to thicken the farther they went into the city. The tree was still blocks ahead, but Nero knew that it was the root of all problems. Once the bastard behind this was taken care of, the demons would be put in their places and leave the city alone (hopefully, for good). So, he decided that the tree was their next destination.

 

* * *

 

            Red Grave City was well known for boasting a rich tech industry, attracting the young generation with its abundance of flexible job opportunities and chances to live in an increasingly modern society. Despite this, Red Grave still possessed traditional aspects that one could find in every typical city across the world, including a pizza parlor.

            There was one particular pizza parlor, which sat across the street from one of the largest skyscrapers in the city, where people were able to customize their slices in every way imaginable. The restaurant was a hotspot for couples, workers, and people of all ages seeking a hot meal for a few bucks. Said restaurant was currently half demolished with the front window completely shattered, the door hanging off its hinges, and the brick wall crumbling in. The parlor sign, Dante’s Pizzeria, had been destroyed sometime during the fleeting chaos.

            It was also inevitable that the employees would scurry off in a fit of panic as soon as the first demon roared outside in search of victims, bringing its posse along. Trays of pizza that had been fresh just hours earlier were now sitting stale behind the counter and attracting flies from the corpses littering the street outside. Half-finished meals were left discarded on the table booths. At least the lights were still in working order somehow, illuminating the group of people surrounding a table in the far corner, all dressed particularly odd except for an elderly man possessing a Homburg hat over his white hair.

            A single black, buckled boot slammed through the parlor’s kitchen doors, followed by the Son of Sparda balancing an entire tray of classic pizza. “All right, kiddos, who ordered a pepperoni-and-cheese pizza, complete with mushrooms and anchovies?”

            “I thought you were using the bathroom.” V looked distastefully at Dante from his seat in the booth.

            “I did.” Dante joined the group, placing the tray on the table before grabbing two whole slices for himself. A third piece went to Trish while Lady simply sat back with Kalina Ann taking up the space on the red seat beside her. “It’s not like Hell has toilets, y’know. You try doing your business without having an Assault jump you with your pants down.”

            “Uh, you did wash your hands first, right?” V couldn’t help but ask, still scrutinizing the layer of pizza with suspicion and doubt.

            A pair of teal and wine-red eyes followed his gaze. “He better have….”

            “Oh, let the man eat in peace.” Trish crossed her legs, leaning against the edge of the table. She held the tip of the pizza to her lips, where a light smile curled the corners. “He hasn’t had a single slice of pizza in years. It was probably more torturous for him than hell itself.”

            “Now, tell us about this Urizen,” Lady jabbed a finger onto the center of the map that V had spread out on the table, using the salt and pepper shakers as paper weights, “and where we can find him.”

            “This is where he is.” A few crumbs from a pizza crust were already scattering across the map and V brushed them aside to point an inch away from where Lady had her finger. “Urizen is a demon born within the deepest pits of the Underworld. Somehow, he escaped, and entered the mortal realm seeking to host a series of tests of sorts.”

            “The harvesting of human blood.” Morrison muttered from the booth right next to them.

            Nodding in affirmation, V continued, “He rooted his tree in the center of the city—right here—and challenged every demon to bring forth as much human blood that they could get and present it to him.”

            Lady braced her elbows on the table, peering down at where V was pointing. “So, he’s making them hunt down humans for sport.”

            “And Urizen is the gamekeeper.” Trish added, already licking her fingers clean of the leftover pizza sauce.

            “So, what’s the trophy?” Dante asked around a mouthful of food. His hands were still occupied with slices, a third piece hanging from his mouth. He seemed more concentrated on balancing on his seat, however, even as he tilted precariously back on the stool. “Rule the human world?”

            “No.” V shook his head, ebony locks swaying by his cheek with the movement. “You get to rule the Underworld as its king.”

            Lady wrinkled her nose as if she had just gotten a whiff of a long-held fart. “Who would wanna rule _that_ shithole?”

            “To become the King of the Underworld means to become the God of Death and inherit such powers.” V explained, glancing at a fly crawling down the vinyl wall decal which read ‘ _Think Outside the Box_ ’

            “Which means you control the order of life.” Morrison sighed tiredly beneath his hat.

            “Not possible.” Trish crossed her arms, breaking away from the table booth to take a stool beside Dante who continued to chew his food silently, thoughtfully. “It was Mundus who ruled the Underworld and Dante sealed him away in a vault on Mallet Island.”

            “Mundus was only a prince who took the position as the ruler of the Demon World when he saw that no one would challenge him. He was not _officially_ King. Urizen is.. something else.” V’s hand slowly crept up to touch the crystal necklace gleaming against his chest. “I’ve tried researching him, but his name comes up so rarely and what little information I could find still leaves his identity shrouded in mystery. I don’t even know how he came to be.”

            “Morrison, what did you mean by ‘control the order of life’?” Lady asked, raising her head higher to peer at the old investigator in the neighboring booth.

            “It means exactly that.” V answered instead. “As King of the Underworld, you not only govern any and all demons lesser than you, but you also have the power to judge mortal souls.”

            “Now, wait just a minute.” Lady held up a hand to stop the young man. “Judge mortal souls? Isn’t that supposed to be God’s work?”

            V tipped a brow in response. “Has any of us actually seen God at work? Or even died?—not including demons. Who knows where human souls actually go when they die? Unless.. if any human here would like to test that theory...?”

            Lady and Morrison remained silent until V made a pointed look at them.

            “But if there’s a hell, then there has to be a heaven.” Lady’s brows were still furrowed beneath her dark fringe. She looked doubtful of her own idea. “... Right?”

            The idea of an equal and opposite force such as Heaven and Hell were very believable, and most humans did indeed place their faith in a moral god of spiritual power. However, everyone was thinking the same thing in response to Lady’s thought; demons had been appearing before humanity for thousands of years, but there had yet to be a single record of angels walking the Earth as well. Which made the idea of heaven and a benevolent god something one could only hope for.

            Lady looked expectantly towards Dante for an answer and he looked to Trish who simply shrugged. “Can’t say. Mundus didn’t exactly send his little demons to boarding school where we were taught the history of the Underworld. He was one of the oldest demons among us though. If anyone knew about the existence of angels—if there ever was—then it’d be him. Maybe that’s why he assumed a false form in the image of theirs.”

            “And I thought he was just trying to pretty himself up for me.” Kicking his feet up to rest on the edge of the table, Dante smirked. He remembered how the Prince of Darkness had created a false image of an angelic god that was vaguely humanoid in shape and appearance. The true form of the Demon Prince, however, had been the complete opposite. The writhing mass of living tissue holding three eyeballs was something no one would’ve wanted to see, let alone remember the image.

            Lady glanced at the son of Sparda who went on to scratch the little silver hairs on his chin. **_Scritch, scritch_**... “So who ruled as King of the Underworld before Mundus then?”

            “There’s no record. Mundus never officially became King, however, so he never inherited the power to judge mortal souls and determine if a human is to be condemned to hell or not.”

            “Is there a reason you would _want_ to condemn a human to hell?” Lady gestured. ‘What if the human is innocent and hasn’t done anything wrong?”

            V shrugged. “Because you can? For entertainment.. or the pleasure to see one suffer for eternity?”

            “Because to condemn more souls to Hell gives you more minions to rule over.” Morrison explained nonchalantly. “And that makes you more powerful. It's the subjects that grant a King power. Otherwise, without subjects, what does a King have to rule over?”

            “Sounds like becoming King of the Underworld has its perks.” Trish murmured, lips tilting slightly at the prospect. “But it’s become a bit of a battle royale for the job.”

            “So, this King of the Underworld.. he is essentially the deity we humans refer to as ‘Hades’, is what I understand.” Morrison commented.

            “Not quite.” V shook his head again and began to reach for the last slice of pizza that remained on the tray. A well-aimed kick beneath the table had the pizza slice flying over to Dante, however, who simply winked at him. Unperturbed, V continued, “Humans depict Hades as a god—and, well, he’s fictional. The King of the Underworld is more of a… as Trish described, a position. Like a job of sorts. Anyone of demonic heritage perfectly qualifies as a candidate for the throne.”

            “But this Urizen isn’t the King?” Lady pinched her brows at the thought that a powerful demon would willingly reject the position and power. After all, it was in a demon’s nature to be greedy. Although, humans have proven to be great contenders in that aspect as well.

            “No, I think Urizen is simply the gamekeeper.” V picked at a piece of mushroom sticking to the cold, cheesy surface of the pizza slice. There seemed to be more that he wanted to say, and Dante trained his piercing blue eyes expectantly on the boy.

            “This still doesn’t make sense.” Lady didn’t hide the frustration in her voice. “There has to be a purpose for the blood. Why the tree? Why does it need to be fed human blood?”

            “Because it’s a Demon Tree.” Everyone was a bit surprised to hear Dante speak up finally and four heads turned his way. There was a pregnant pause as every other person waited for the Son of Sparda to elaborate. When Dante realized this, he sighed and leaned back on his stool, letting the one leg balance his weight with unnatural precision. “The tree’s roots are spreading throughout the city, allowing more and more demons to pour through. Once the roots take over the whole world— _voila!_ —the human world becomes one, big demon resort. Complete with mortal souls fresh for the picking. And the King of the Underworld gets it all.”

            “That makes sense…” V grabbed at the crystal around his neck, feeling it pulse warmly against the skin of his palm. The grip on his short cane tightened slightly.

            Morrison sighed again. “In the end, it all comes down to ruling over humanity again.”

            Didn’t it ever?

            Smiling lightly, Trish ran a manicured finger down the length of Luce & Ombra. “So... stop the demons.”

            “Stop the Demon Tree.” Lady grabbed Kalina Anna from the corner of the booth, already sliding her way out.

            “Stop Urizen... and save the human world again.” Dante stood up with a slight groan, raising his arms up to stretch out the kinks in his back. “All right, we know Urizen is hiding up in his tree house, and we know where that is. So, let’s go.”

            “Just like that? Dante, I don’t think you understand just how powerful this guy is.” V immediately stood up, watching the devil hunters grab their stuff and pat the debris dust off their clothes. “It’s more complicated than you think. Do you even have a plan?”

            “He likes to make things up as he goes.” Lady smiled coyly, hands on her hips so casually.

            “Improv is Dante’s specialty.” Trish winked, resting her pistols atop of bare shoulders. The large, wicked sword she carried at her back remained in place, partly concealed by the long curtain of golden hair.

            “Look, kid, a demon made of tree roots just needs to... lighten up a bit.” Dante clapped the young man’s shoulder appeasingly, giving him a cocky smirk. “What more planning do you need than to just go and beat the bad guy up? It works every time. You should try it!”

            “Dante, I really think—” V began to say before the Son of Sparda abruptly straightened out an arm to shoot a demon creeping through the parlor’s broken window.

            The insectoid head blasted open in a spray of blood and bits of flesh before tumbling onto the checkered floor, revealing a swarm of other demons waiting just beyond. A dozen pairs of glowing red eyes stared at the group within, unblinking for a second before screeching belligerently.

            “Looks like we’ve got some customers!” Dante shouted over the sounds of Ebony and Ivory unloading on their unwelcome guests. “And I’ve got a hot meal ready for them!”

            “Last one to Urizen’s tree house has to pay the pizza tab.” Trish suggested, aiming her two pistols level to her electric blue eyes. The breasts stuffed within her leather corset jiggled every time she squeezed the triggers. “And buys us _all_ strawberry sundaes!”

            “ _Now_ we’re talkin’!” Dante whooped, red duster coat swishing behind him with every step he took towards the party of demons outside.

            “Pizza and strawberry sundaes, huh?” Lady held Kalina Ann close to her hip, the rocket launcher's bayonet tip glinting menacingly. “You’re on!”

            “Wait!” V tried to stop the devil hunters from jumping into the fray.

            Trish and Lady were already leaping through the window with Dante right behind the two girls, guns blazing wildly for a massacre and rocket launcher spitting out an extra explosion that cleared the dust and debris around the pizza parlor. Gripping his cane tightly with both hands, V remained silent, mouth set in a tight line as he observed the devil hunters prove their worth outside. At his side, he sensed the investigator take a seat in his booth again to wait for the firefight to die down.

            “Let him go.” Morrison said, tugging out a lighter for the cigar he’d already stuck in his mouth. “That man has faced death countless times. He knows more than we do on what it means to be a devil hunter.”

            “How can someone like him be a son of the great Sparda?” V couldn’t help but ask, emboldened by disbelief and curiosity. He’d expected someone akin to the legendary, dark knight. Not an old man who desperately needed a shave and liked to stuff his face with pizza before a good fight. “He doesn’t look like much…”

            “Neither do you, son.” Morrison chuckled after another puff. “And neither did his mother, Eva. And yet, it was that human woman who gained the love of a demon. And it was that love that turned the tide of war… and ultimately changed the fate of humanity itself.”

            “Eva and Sparda, huh?” V observed the aged devil hunter swing his sword against several demons, slamming them across the street like he was playing baseball. “Are you saying his love for humanity is what drives him?”

            “Heh, just because Dante loved his human mother don’t mean he loves humanity too.” From his lonely spot in the booth, Morrison stared out the parlor window. Broken shards framing the window plinked down as several more explosions and whoops rocked the area. “I don’t know why he keeps fighting for us, but you’re gods damn lucky he’s on our side…. Just like I hope you’re on ours.”

            “Of course….” Slowly, V grabbed the edge of his hood and raised it over his head to block out the burning gaze of the investigator. Beneath the shadow concealing the upper half of his face, he peered up at the rooftops, scanning the background until his eyes landed on an unusual shape that stood out.

            With its bright, sapphire wings tucked in at the sides, the bird continued to watch V in return, its gaze steady and timeless.

            The hooded man nodded subtly at it and the bird took off, its form a blur against the pitch-black sky.

            “Where will you go?” Morrison asked.

            “To where I’m needed.” V replied quietly and, gripping his cane as if his life depended on it, he took his leave through the door still clinging to its hinges.

            Through the smoky tendrils of his cigar, the investigator blinked at the sight of the young man’s tattoos slowly crawling across his pale skin. The mysterious ally was gone before Morrison could peer more closely at the black ink that had seemingly been shifting on his body. And as he slowly brought his gaze to Dante using his sword to spear a line of demons like shish kebab, Morrison couldn’t shake off the incessant feeling that time was running out.

            “I’m getting too old for this.” He sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For now, I am mostly focusing on Nero's campaign story because we still haven't gotten Dante's trailer (which will be shown at TGS). So until Dante's trailer comes out, there won't be much story info on him for me to build on, but I will try my best!
> 
> I also left some foreshadowing and hints throughout this chapter, so comment on what your thoughts or ideas are!


	4. War Cries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nero and Dante are both on their separate journey to meet the mastermind behind this new demon invasion. From here on out, the stakes will be higher than never before!

            The first thing Kyrie does when she wakes up at six in the morning—sharp—is turn around in bed and plant a feather-light kiss on the tip of her lover’s nose. It was often a challenge she liked to partake, wondering if the devil hunter’s supernatural senses would awaken him first or if her good morning kiss would. And, if he continued on lightly snoring—exhausted after a recent mission—she would take advantage and study his handsome, sleeping face for a while longer.

            Knowing that he’d been orphaned as a babe, she often wondered whom he inherited such aristocratic traits from. She liked to trace the contours of Nero’s straight nose, brush the sharp, high cheekbones, count the thick, silver lashes beneath his strong brow. She liked to feel his stubble scratch the back of her hand and then touch the defined cupid’s bow of his lips. Sometimes, the devil hunter’s ice blue eyes would snap open and he’d grab her wrist—like a viper ensnaring its prey, but oh so gently—before pressing a lazy kiss to the tender skin of her palm until Kyrie would giggle quietly into the pillow.

            Other times, Nero would pretend to still be sleeping, allowing her to touch him more in wonder until his Devil Bringer would begin to glow in warning, like an ember ready to ignite with passion. And when he opened his eyes, they would be burning blood red for a second. However, Kyrie was never afraid when that happened. Not when those were the red eyes of a demon who stared at her with nothing but raw love, so intense and wholesome that she sometimes found herself getting lost in that demonic gaze. And then he’d say in a deep, sluggish rumble, “ _Mornin’_ …”

            This morning, Kyrie awoke alone, a few minutes earlier than six—which rarely ever happened.

            The other half of the bed was cold and empty of the man who often occupied it, but she still slid a hand across the silky, powder blue sheets in search of her lover. Feeling nothing but coldness, Kyrie sighed and heaved herself out of bed to start preparing for the day. With hardly an appetite, she decided to just toast some bread with an avocado spread, making sure not to get any crumbs on her wine turtleneck or the soft brown pencil skirt that wrapped around her waist, accented by a simple black belt. A cotton black T-shirt caught her attention and she plucked it off the back of the living room couch. She sniffed Nero’s lingering scent of pine and snow on the soft clothing before noticing a small rip on the left sleeve. The sight of it elicited a wry smile from Kyrie and she made a mental note to sew it tonight. Not tomorrow, or this weekend, or anytime later—but tonight. After all, it was one of Nero’s favorite shirts.

            At thirty minutes past six, there was plenty of time to spare, but Kyrie still hurried in tidying her long hair into a braid that draped over her shoulder. After tucking her necklace beneath her top, she grabbed her badge credentials along with a tan satchel.

            When she stepped out of the dainty house, the first thing Kyrie noticed about the sky was that the sun still hid behind a thick layer of dark clouds that blotted out the cerulean blue expanse. When she looked to the distance, miles, and miles ahead of where she stood at the border of the city, she could not miss the spiraling tree that stood out among the city skyline, throbbing an intense red—like a heartbeat.

            Staring at the tendrils of roots dancing around the tree, Kyrie took a moment to touch the center of her chest, feeling the soothing warmth of the necklace on her skin. With a shaky breath, she headed towards the shelters, ready to spend another entire day providing care and relief for the survivors and victims of the demon attacks.

 

* * *

 

            Nero’s boots were disgustingly slick with coagulated blood and other substances that were best left unidentified. It made his hike up the demon tree even more tedious than necessary, much to his ire, and he predicted that he’d have to buy another pair after this mission.

            At his back, a trail of demons—their faces blown off or torsos ripped open—lay slumped on the twisted roots that made up the floor, leading all the way back to the Minotaurus van where Nico sat waiting.

            It’d taken only half the night to clear a pathway to the Demon Tree, but having to leave the car behind made the entire trip longer. Plus, it wasn’t every day that Nero hiked up a mountain of twisted roots slathered in blood and peppered with demons. He’d rather just get to the root of the problem and shove Red Queen straight through the boss leader’s head to get it over with. It didn’t help that his arm stump was beginning to ache. The medicine the hospital had prescribed him had worn off long ago, and the last time his wrappings had been changed was when Kyrie had fixed it for him. He’d have to ask Nico to do it once he got back.

            “Hey!” Nero shouted at a bony figure wearing ragged robes, dragging itself aimlessly around just a few feet ahead. It reacted quickly to Nero’s call, swinging its skull head to him as well as the rusty scythe it held. “You happen to know where I can find this guy? Skinny pal in rags? It can’t be you.. You’re too, well, _stick thin_. You need some meat on your bones, pal—woah!”

            The Hell Caina snarled as it attempted to lop off Nero’s head a second time, missing again when the devil hunter merely bent over backward.

            “What? Ya hungry? Well—then get a load ‘o this!” Nero fired a single shot at the demon, bullet running a clean hole through its bloated head. It blew back—miraculously still intact—and then dissipated in a cloud of smoke and despair. He sighed, “Didn’t even leave me a tip. Guess I’ll have to find this guy myself.”

            Just as Nero finished speaking, a large tremble had him stumbling around and attempting to find a good foothold on the floor of roots. An explosion in the distance immediately followed the little earthquake with another two explosions succeeding right after.

            “That sounded close…” Nero muttered. His stump throbbed as if in agreement—or perhaps in warning of the mysterious man who stole his Devil Bringer. Whatever it was, that was where Nero needed to be for sure.

            Without wasting any more time, he dashed towards the source of the noise that had rocked the organic structure. There was this nagging feeling in the back of Nero’s mind that he couldn’t quite put a finger on. Every muscle in his body tightened like a taut string with every step he took towards the source where more explosions continued to guide him. His nerves felt tense like he was sticking a tiny piece of metal into an electrical socket and the charge was shaking every molecule within him.

            And as he slowed down to a brisk walk to round the corner, passing through a solid archway, Nero swore his heart stuttered when his eyes landed on the figure on the throne. The being must have been at least five times the size of an average human, sitting so relaxed on a throne that seemed to be made of the same material as it was. The Demon Tree’s dark, solid roots created the seat, accented by the skulls of various creatures like little trophies to show off. Long tendrils connected the demon’s feet to the center of the tree itself—a solid bank of blood that pulsed directly behind the throne. It almost looked like a rose that was still a flower bud, but about ready to enter full bloom.

            Nero’s brows slowly pinched together as he eyed the giant demon with the appearance of a knight donning the skin of a twisted tree. And like a mask, the demon’s rooted parts formed at the top of the head to make several, leveled spikes that gave off the illusion of a makeshift crown, the tips drenched scarlet red.

            Three blue gems were centered throughout the demon’s torso, but it was the eye that made the smirk drop off of Nero’s face. A single, radiant blue eye in the shape of a teardrop burned brightly in the recesses of the demon knight’s warped face. The slitted pupil in the center of that eye seemed to dilate as it stared back at the young devil hunter, assessing the new challenger.

            A low groan drew Nero’s gaze to the last person he expected to see.

            Dante, the son of Sparda, laid out on his back and struggling to get up like a fallen old man who needed his Life Alert. It was more of a shock to see him so aged rather than to see him still alive and kicking, but Nero had never stopped believing he was still out there.

            Several yards away were two women knocked out cold on either side of the area. Both of the women looked vaguely familiar to Nero, but he had yet to get a good look at their faces.

            The old man raised a desperate hand towards the enthroned demon and Nero shot a look back at the enemy that had wiped the floor with Dante’s ass.

            The figure casually raised a clawed hand in gesture, silently commanding a thick tendril with a mutated spike at the end to fly towards the incapacitated devil hunter. Without hesitation, Nero whipped out Blue Rose and the death tendril blew apart upon meeting bullets instead of the flesh of its intended target.

            “Well… looks like this won’t be a waste of time after all.” Nero’s smirk returned as he twirled Blue Rose back into the holster around his waist.

            Several steps forward put Dante somewhere behind Nero and he could hear the old devil hunter groaning quietly, still out of it for the most part. Heh, he must have been away from the action for so long that he’s starting to lose his touch, Nero thought to himself. His smirk evolved into a full grin. “Hey, jackass!”

            The demon didn’t show any reaction to the taunt.

            “Didn’t your mother ever teach you it’s not nice to steal?” Shifting restlessly on his feet, Nero gestured to the bandaged stump on his right side.

            The demon’s face seemed to lean forward in interest, the center eye fading from a bright blue to a pulsing red.

            Noticing the warning, Nero quietly harrumphed, reaching behind himself to draw out Red Queen. The worn hilt was still warm through his leather gloves and he itched to revv the blade up for a proper fight, having been relying on Blue Rose the entire journey up here.

            “Sorry, Dante…” He spared another quick glance towards the downed hunter. Even with one hand, Red Queen was still easy to twirl before Nero finished the flourish by sticking the blade’s tip into the knobby ground, letting the blade slide in between the enclosure of roots and blood. “I’m baggin’ this bitch!”

            Hot blood coursed through Nero’s veins like a shot of righteous fury that begged to be released. A trained calmness mixed with the intense feeling of belligerence as he gripped the familiar sword hilt and twisted it with practiced motions.

**_Vrrr-Vrooommm!_ **

            The readied roar of the blade’s engine spread from his fingertips, up the corded muscles of his arm, and echoed into a purr that resounded in his body. Embers shot up, followed by a wave of heat that fanned Nero’s face, eliciting a wider grin from him.

            Pointing the revved-up sword towards the demon knight, Nero snarled, “LET’S ROCK!”

 

* * *

 

            The metal pan of supplies that Kyrie had been carrying away from a patient suddenly slammed onto the solid floor of the warehouse which acted as a shoddy shelter for the victims of the demon attacks. Surgical tweezers, scissors, gauzes, and adhesive bandages spilled out of the pan in a loud crash.

            “Oh my goodness, Kyrie! What’s wrong?” An elderly, plump woman quickly shuffled over to the young woman who had keened over to grip her lower belly.

            “It’s nothing, Marian.” Kyrie spoke through strained breaths, forcing herself to meet her coworker’s concerned gaze. “It’s— _nnghh_ —just the baby.. acting up…”

            Despite the white, stained apron covering her front, she worried that the light surely emanating from her womb would be seen, and so Kyrie’s hand remained firmly pressed to her abdomen where she could feel incessant pulses echoing deep within. It felt like someone was knocking on her belly from the inside out. Strong and insistent to the point that Kyrie’s belly ached with the horrible feeling.

            “But you’re only three and a half months along... The baby shouldn’t even be kicking yet!” Marian’s dark eyes were wide as saucers and she kept flicking her gaze back and forth between Kyrie’s hand and her distressed face. “You need to call your husband. There could be something wrong with your baby, Kyrie…”

            “Nero’s… away— _gaah!_ —on a business.. trip…” Kyrie managed to say, groaning out the last word through gritted teeth. She made to bend down and pick up the tools she’d dropped but it was just too much to fight off the unpleasant ache in her belly.

            “He… Your husband doesn’t even know that you’re pregnant… does he, Kyrie?!” Marian’s jaw dropped open and she grabbed Kyrie’s shoulder urgently. “Does he?!”

            “I wanted.. to surprise… Nero after all of this.. was over.” Kyrie smiled with trembling lips.

            “Goodness gracious, child! The elderly nurse looked aghast at the prospect of withholding such vital information from the man who needed to know the most. Grabbing Kyrie’s free hand, she swung her head from side to side, observing the rows of makeshift beds that held patients crying in agony. “You need to see a doctor. Kyrie, have you even had your first prenatal appointment yet?”

            “Uh.. well…” She had thought of it—really, she had!

            It was one of the first things Kyrie had considered as soon as she realized that she was pregnant with Nero’s child. Except, that was the issue. She was carrying Nero’s child. Nero was part demon…. What if the ultrasound showed something that wasn’t supposed to be there? How could Kyrie explain to the doctor that she was carrying the offspring of a demon from a renowned bloodline? Hence why she had to put off the visits and decided to go only if it was a dire emergency.

            Still, Kyrie was pretty sure that it wasn’t normal for a pregnant woman to have their belly glowing with light and their womb pulsating so strongly. Maybe it was time to go see a doctor after all…

            It was that moment of hesitance from her that had Marian pushing Kyrie down the aisle of victims and out the double doors, taking her apron off in the process. “There’s a clinic just down the street. They might be full, but tell them I sent you and ask for Dr. Giffari! She’ll take good care of you.”

            The warehouse doors slammed shut behind Kyrie before she could even let out a sentence of protest. The entire street was practically full of officers patrolling the area, ambulances wheeling in survivors or patients that the hospitals were too busy to care for. Speaking of hospitals, most of them were located around the center of the city. The few that were near the border were crammed full, way past the point of maximum occupancy. Neighboring cities had sent in groups of relief efforts, but every time Kyrie went to help out a shelter, it was just never enough.

            Knowing that Marian would only kick her out again if she tried to go back to work, Kyrie let out a heavy sigh and made her way to the aforementioned clinic. Throughout the entire walk, her womb never stopped pulsating with a dim light. Several times, she had to stop for a breather and fight through the uncomfortable, twisting sensations in her abdomen.

            Cupping her belly, Kyrie realized the baby bump that had barely been noticeable before.. now filled her hand. Just yesterday, she had still looked flat for the most part. Now, her baby bump was prominent enough to fill her hand so perfectly? “That… doesn't make se— _oh!_ ”

            Another dull, throbbing ache stole her breath and she paused to endure it.

            “Just five more months…” Kyrie muttered to herself, caressing the prominent swell in the hopes that the comforting touch would appease the child within her. “Oooh… only five more months…”

 

* * *

 

            Every goddamn bullet of his kept getting blocked by a wall of fire or pockets of air.

            Nero leaped to the side again as another fireball the size of a car crashed onto exactly where he’d been standing just a split second earlier. Intense heat like he’d never felt before licked dangerously at his face, threatening to have his favorite coat combust. This fire was unnatural, burning a glorious red as if they were conceived from the belly of the Underworld itself. He barely had time to flip back to avoid another meteor sized fireball, chunks of hot rocks exploding around his feet.

            Blue Rose felt too warm in his gloved hand but Nero leveled the pistol for a shot, aiming at the tiny opening he caught. The demon knight simply lifted a hand and a flickering wave of blue darkness opened between the two opponents.

            “Fu—” Nero instantly rolled aside but a part of his body still got caught within the confines of the magical trap shaped like a bubble. Every molecule of his lower half slowed down until Nero felt as if he no longer had a pair of legs to control. Groaning, he fought against the spell, muscles burning as he attempted to pull his leg out of the azure bubble that entrapped it.

            Too late.

            Another fireball caught him straight on and it felt exactly how it looked. If he’d been a regular human without a quarter blood of Sparda in him, he surely would have died from that one hit. It was like an entire building had been dropped on his front, bruising ribs and smashing his face with a scorching heat that forced out a yell of agony from Nero. His body flew back from the explosive impact but years of experience allowed Nero to quickly recover with a roll onto his feet. Despite his face feeling like he was sticking his head in the oven, it didn’t slow him down one bit.

            Good thing, too, because he was already being forced to dodge a laser beam that looked like it could disintegrate his whole body. His shoulder was beginning to ache from the number of continuous siderolls he was doing just to avoid the one attack. It frustrated him how he couldn’t find an opening to get a shot through without his bullets being blocked. It was like this fucker could predict his every move. Worst of all, the demon had yet to budge an inch off his throne. Even now, the jackass appeared to be bored, as if he was simply entertaining Nero instead of the other way around.

            Red Queen was useless in this situation too. There was no way he could get anywhere close to the demon knight unless he wanted to eat another meteor—no, thank you.

            With lightning speed, Nero reloaded the revolver’s whole chamber with his special multi-hit bullets. Another fireball exploded right after he’d dodged it and he used the debris as stepping stones. His footing was sure and light as he launched himself higher and higher, racing against time and gravity until the demon knight’s crowned head appeared over the mass of fire. Nero took aim, holding down on the trigger to charge up the shot, feeling Blue Rose tremble with restrained power that continued to build the longer he held the trigger.

            Just as he let go, another wave of cerulean energy pulsed from the demon knight without warning. The wall of energy echoed across the throne room, flinging Nero all the way back until he slammed against one of the branches that made up the enclosure of the room. The solid branch crumbled upon impact and Nero plunged to the floor, rolling disgracefully with a pained grunt as he tucked his body in to cushion the fall. He already felt like one huge bruise when he finally rolled to a stop on a patch of solidified blood that clung to wherever he touched. Across him, Dante laid flat on his back, completely unconscious as he had been throughout Nero’s entire fight.

            Good. _At least the old man didn’t see my own ass-kicking_ , Nero thought to himself as he grimaced through the sharp pains that racked his entire body. Fighting through the pain, he struggled to clamber back onto his feet but it was like the entire life had been sucked out of him. And in the back of his mind, Nero knew that this fight was futile. Without the power of his Devil Bringer, he was hardly anywhere close to the demon hunter he’d been. Not a single fucking shot had touched the demon knight sitting so relaxed on the throne of roots and blood.

            Feet scuffled behind him but he ignored the new presence at his back. It hurt like a son of a bitch where Nero pressed his hand against his abdomen but he had more than enough fighting spirit to keep on going. It spoke through the glare he sent to the enthroned knight. And he slowly stumbled onto his feet, struggling to keep himself upright so that he could rejoin the fray.

            This was a battle he had to win, no matter what.

            Because that piece of shit had his arm. And without the power of his Devil Bringer, Nero could not properly protect the one thing he cherished most.

            It took every ounce of his energy to remain standing on his two feet—slightly doubled over with pain still, but standing nonetheless.

            Oh so leisurely, the demon knight stretched out a claw to form a red, sizzling ball of energy. The air seemed to waver thickly around that hand as more power swirled into the ball, amassing levels of energy for a final strike that was a certain death blow.

            Nero’s mouth tightened into a grim line as he struggled to set himself into a proper stance, trying to get ready to dodge the attack. But he knew that he wouldn’t be able to survive it. His body was moving too slow—and, even if he did somehow manage to dodge, he wouldn’t be able to dodge a second time.

            _Kyrie…_

            Her beautiful face flashed in Nero’s mind despite him still staring head-on at the intangible energy building in the demon’s palm.

            _**P-TAFF!** _

            The ball of energy was snuffed out and the demon knight turned his head slightly to meet the determined gaze of the elderly devil hunter.

            A tendril of smoke was still snaking out from Ebony which Dante still held aloft, resting Ivory on his shoulder. Chill blue eyes filled with conviction and valor were trained steadfast on the enemy, the wrinkles at the corner crinkling from the glare. Smirking as if he hadn’t been knocked out cold earlier, Dante announced, “Round two!”

            The smirk evolved into a challenging grin that was both taunting and threatening.

            Breathing through the pain, Nero watched the seasoned devil hunter brace himself into a stance. A cloud of embers exploded from Dante’s body in a wink of light and energy, revealing a demonic form that looked somewhat familiar to Nero.

            Four razor sharp wings fanned out from the demon’s back, burning red hot at the tips like molten rock. The figure itself looked like it was made entirely of sculpted granite or midnight marble. Every contoured inch glowed red as if volcanic fire coursed through the demon’s veins instead of ruby blood. Where buckled boots had been, three large claws for each foot scraped the knotted floor and it reminded Nero of an animal getting ready to headbutt. But the brandished Rebellion that the demon held in its clawed grasp confirmed Nero’s belief: this was Dante is his truest form.

            With a snarl, Dante launched himself at the throned demon who threw up a hand again to create an invisible barrier. Nero stumbled back at the force of the impact of Rebellion clashing against the wall that kept Dante at bay. The young devil hunter’s eyes widened in shock at the sight before him. He’d never seen an opponent hold the son of Sparda back so easily as if he was just a bug to bother with.

            Energy crackled and popped where Rebellion pressed against the barrier, harder and harder with the strength of Sparda attempting to break through. The organic structure began to tremble once more, eliciting large stones and broken tree bits to hail down from above.

            “V, get Nero out of here!” The winged demon glanced back, eyes burning and fangs bared urgently. “This was a bad move!”

            “I can still fight!” Nero spoke through gritted teeth, dragging himself forward to help out the other devil hunter. He felt unbalanced and ready to topple over without his other arm to weigh him upright. Even so…

            I’ll be damned if I let that old man show me up after all these years.

            A pair of human hands grabbed Nero’s shoulders from behind, steadying him but also tugging him away from the battle.

            “Nero, go!” Dante snarled back. All sense of the devil hunter’s playfulness was absent as slitted pupils silently demanded the younger hunter escape. “You’re just dead weight.”

            What _the fuck_ did that old man just say?

            “Back off!” With more force than necessary, Nero shrugged off the person holding onto him and lurched onward, determined to finish this fight with or without Dante.

            As if on cue, a group of boulders fell from above to land directly before Nero, completely blocking the path back into the throne room. Over the rocks, Nero could just barely see Dante still pressing against the barrier with Rebellion, creating shockwaves of raw energy that continued to rock the entire tree structure. Several more pieces of debris hailed down around Nero and he stumbled back to avoid getting crushed, falling onto his backside in the process.

            “Come on!” A young man covered in tattoos grabbed Nero’s only arm, hauling him back onto his feet.

            “Let go!” Despite barely any strength left in his limbs, he continued to fight against the stranger’s hold, driven by fury and the urge to seek vengeance.

            “We must leave here.” The stranger insisted. “He is far stronger than we ever could have imagined.”

            Resisting the stranger’s hold was pointless and Nero found himself letting the boy drag him away as stone pillars and crumbling branches collapsed over the pathway, cutting off any chance of accessing the throne room to rejoin Dante.

            “That bastard called me dead weight!” Nero shouted furiously, watching the throne room disappear from sight with each piece of debris piling atop of each other. When Dante finally disappeared from view, Nero ripped himself out of the stranger’s grasp. “I didn’t come all the way here for nothing!”

            A boulder almost crushed Nero’s arm when he threw a hand over the blockage to try and climb over it. The stranger grabbed Nero again and forcibly peeled him off the debris just before the young devil hunter could get crushed by more falling rubble.

            His back slamming against a wall, Nero felt the length of a cane press across his chest to hold him in place. He eyed the swirling ink on the arms of the stranger who spoke to him in a low but strict voice, “Stop hitting yourself, and think of ways to be stronger and actually help.”

            Grinding his teeth in fury, Nero looked to the side, listening to the sounds of more rubble crumbling around them, quaking the very ground they stood upon. He knew that what this man was saying was right, and that he couldn’t let his emotions overtake him like that. Without the power of his Devil Bringer, he truly was dead weight in comparison to the renowned son of Sparda.

            He didn’t possess anywhere near the kind of power that Dante had shown back in the throne room. He didn’t have a demon form like that. All he had was Yamato, which that bastard demon had stolen from him.

            “If Dante loses…” Dark eyes peered intensely at Nero, “you are all that can defeat Urizen.”

            The heavy, cold truth of those words snuffed out the rage within Nero as he realized that this was a battle that could not simply be won through sheer strength alone. If the son of Sparda fell, then Nero was humanity’s last stand against this new onslaught of demons. As much as Nero prided himself in his abilities, that was a thought he hoped would not come true. Because if Sparda’s son could not win, then how could Nero ever hope to?

            Still catching his breath, Nero felt the pressure on his chest disappear as the man pulled the cane away, knowing he’d gotten through to Nero.

            “Is that what you call him?” Nero stared at the blocked archway, listening to the thundering cracks of energy that echoed from the other side.

            “Yes.” The man followed his gaze. “Urizen, the demon king…”

            Urizen… Nero mentally chanted the name, allowing his anger to renew at the foreign sound of the demon’s title. And with that fury, he found himself filling with energy once more, relying on the anger to fuel him.

            “That’s the name of the demon that took your arm.”

            “Yeah?” Nero finally took a good look at this stranger, noting that the man was only in his late teens—the same age Nero was when he fought Sanctus. Tattoos covered almost every inch of exposed skin, reminding Nero of his partner back in the van. His eyes skimmed over the crystal necklace before connecting with a dark gaze. “And your name is..?”

 

* * *

 

            A pale, slitted eye stared endlessly back at Dante as he tried to dig Rebellion deeper into the invisible barrier. The ancient blade inched back and forth between the demon knight and the devil hunter despite all the strength Dante put in his strike. The quad pair of wings at his back burned like engines revving to the max, accelerating Dante forward but unable to help him break through.

            Throughout all his years as a devil hunter, his Majin form had pulled him through the worst of everything, granting Dante legendary speed and strength no other demon could match. Most of all, it granted him true invulnerability that left him impervious to any and all attacks.

            So, when he saw Urizen fist a claw, ready to punch the devil hunter away, Dante had expected nothing much to happen.

            What he did not expect, however, was for Urizen to suckerpunch him completely out of Majin form.

            Explosive energy zapped through Dante’s entire being, resounding in the pits of his soul so painfully that he could do nothing but grit his teeth to stifle an anguished cry. His demonic enhancements dissipated in a flurry of extinguished embers and sparks. Before him, Rebellion glinted from the fading energy, reflecting the agony on Dante’s face like a mirror before several cracks ran through the hunter’s reflection. It sounded like a clap of thunder when the blade shattered into silver fragments, mixing with the dying embers, the shards sparkling like falling stars.

            And through the bits of metal and cinder, Urizen’s icy eye stared directly at Dante, watching the son of Sparda’s downfall.

            Unblinking and timeless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **So I saw Dante's trailer from the TGS event.. Hm, the new info sort of changes some details I had planned for my story, but that's ok.**
> 
>  
> 
> **Also, I think it's interesting how Nico says in the TGS trailer that it's not just Red Grave City that is going to suffer with this demon issue—it's the whole world that will be involved. In my previous chapter, I had Dante explain that the Demon Tree would spread its roots throughout the world and make Earth part of Hell for the demons to take over. Never thought a detail I made up on the spot would become canon!**
> 
>  
> 
> **Finally, next chapter will include a juicy lemon! You know which pair of lovebirds I'm talking about. And no, I wrote it before the reveal of Nero's Devil Breaker "Sweet Surrender" (aka the vibrating dildo arm).**


	5. The Hunter & His Songbird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juicy lemons taste the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this chapter early because I won't be able to post it this weekend. Dante's TGS trailer revealed new info so I decided to have this chapter mostly be a **LEMON** so that I have time to readjust my plot outline according to the new information revealed.
> 
> ALSO! I highly recommend listening to the DMC 5 Deluxe edition PS4 Pre-order theme of "Devil Trigger" on Youtube. It's a chill remix that's perfect for some sexy time..

            According to the doctor, Kyrie was already thirteen weeks along, calculated by the record of her last menstrual period.

            Only three months pregnant, but her belly was already swollen enough for Kyrie to cradle her hands against it. The gentle slope slightly stretched the material of her wine turtleneck sweater taut, although it wasn’t tight enough to feel restraining. Still, the doctor had commented how her belly was a bit larger than it should be during this stage of the trimester. Especially since this was Kyrie’s first pregnancy, she really shouldn’t be showing much at all.

            It’d been a while since the last pulsating light had faded from beneath her top, much to Kyrie’s relief. Even so, it’d been more tiring than expected, having to go through an entire physical, do a pelvic exam including a Pap smear, and then have her urine sampled. It still hurt where the needle had poked her for the sake of testing her blood for any anemia or other medical concerns. Prior to that, it had taken almost an hour to pore through her medical history, detailing every aspect and habit that they’d inquired of her.

            By the time Kyrie was sitting on the lengthened chair, top peeled back to reveal her baby bump slathered with a weird jelly-like substance, she was ready to just go home and sleep the rest of the day.

            “Are you ready for your ultrasound?” Dr. Giffari seemed to be the kind of doctor that was popular with the patients, knowing exactly what kind of bedside talk to say to appease the person. “This will show us your baby and perhaps it’ll explain why you’re so unusually big at this time.”

            Heart thumping quickly in her chest, Kyrie swallowed down the lump stuck in her throat as she watched the woman press a tool to her belly. On the monitor, there was a black and white, fuzzy image depicting…

            “Oh!” Dr. Giffari gasped and then shot an even wider smile at Kyrie who was just as surprised. “Well, well, lucky you!”

            Oh my, indeed.

            _Twins._

            She was having twins.

            There, amongst the black background of her picturized womb, sat two humanoid forms nestled together, side by side. It was difficult to determine the sex of either baby but… dear lord, she was going to have _two_ babies—not just one.

            Nero was in for an even bigger surprise.

            The image shifted slightly with every shaky breath Kyrie sucked in.

            There was no tail, or horns, or… no, wait.

            “Hm…” Dr. Giffari peered closer at the monitor with Kyrie squinting from the bed. “That’s strange. You see that? The arm looks..”

            “I think it’s just the monitor.” Kyrie said quickly, forcing herself to speak calmly. “The image isn’t clear-cut.”

            “Right, but….” The ob-gyn removed her glasses, narrowing her brown eyes at the screen.

            Kyrie watched the healthcare provider put her glasses back on, eyes still squinting, and then take her glasses off. The woman’s lip curled up gradually as befuddlement overtook her elderly face. A tingle of anxiety ran down Kyrie’s back and she yearned to cradle her belly.

            “Dr. Giffari?” She called out. “Is.. Is something wrong?”

            “Uh…” The ob-gyn grabbed a clipboard and flipped through several sheets of papers, scanning the information written. “You said that, for the past three months, you haven’t taken any medication besides your birth control, is that right?”

            “Yes..?”

            “It says here that you only started on your birth control three months ago, in the middle of March.” Dr. Giffari turned her scrutinized gaze towards Kyrie who shifted uncomfortably on the bed, not sure as to what the point of these questions was. “Before starting the birth control, you only ever used condoms as your method of contraception, yes? Only condoms—no other medication or method of contraception?”

            “Y-Yes.” A rush of warmth filled Kyrie’s cheeks at the question. “Only condoms…”

            Condoms were admittedly a bit more tedious to use, and Kyrie was the one to put it on Nero since his claws tended to shred the thin rubber. However, it had taken several years for Kyrie to find the courage to use something that would directly affect her physiology. Birth control was the next most popular method of protection.

            “When you began using your birth control, did you wait at least a week before engaging in any sexual activity with your partner?” Dr. Giffari asked, frowning at a blushing Kyrie. “I hate to ask, but I do occasionally get young couples your age who, well, can’t abstain for more than a week and then they find themselves unexpectedly pregnant…”

            Kyrie’s cheeks felt like they were on fire in reaction to what the doctor was implying there. She nodded, wishing the doctor would get straight to the point instead of asking things that her papers already answered. “I.. we.. yes, we waited a week for the birth control to take effect.”

            “But you were impregnated as soon as you switched from the condoms to the birth control method. That’s… The birth control should have prevented any pregnancies.” Dr. Giffari’s frown remained, even as her gaze fell to the swollen belly still slathered in cold jelly. “Despite the 99.9% belief, Red Grave’s advanced technology and research ensure a 100% success rate for our prescribed birth control medications. It should have been impossible for your partner to impregnate you—no matter how great the quality of his sperm is.”

            _Q-Q-Q-Quality of his sperm?!_

            _What if your partner is part-demon?_ The question blared in Kyrie’s mind like a car alarm beeping off. Did that, in any way, affect Nero’s….?

            “It’s not impossible to have flaws.. Perhaps I’m just the 0.01% missed?” Kyrie suggested. Although, deep in the back of her mind, she had a feeling that there was an explanation for this pregnancy… A memory of a certain night from three months ago, painted in hot shades of blue, red, and gold. Thinking of that night caused Kyrie to blush even harder, cheeks stained like roses, and she fought to calm her racing heart.

            She’d never considered how the biology of someone with demon genes could affect the reproductive process… And Kyrie doubted she could ask any doctor as to what to do or expect when bearing the children of a man of demonic lineage.

            “No, there is no 0.01% chance. Here’s what has to happen for pregnancy to occur after sexual intercourse.” The woman began, and Kyrie knew she was in for a lesson that she’d already learned years prior to her marriage to Nero. “Sperm swims through the cervical opening at the very back of the vagina. The sperm then pass through your uterus to swim into a fallopian tube, each of which is connected to an ovary. During your ovulation—this period is when you are at the peak of fertility—an egg is released. Out of the thousands of sperm racing for the egg, only one has the chance to fertilize it. Since you’re expecting twins, that means your ovaries released two eggs and they were both fertilized. Now, every contraceptive is designed to prevent impregnation in some way. You said you’d been relying on condoms for years, right?”

            Kyrie nodded politely, although she truly just wanted to leave already. Where was the doctor going with this?

            “Condoms simply block the sperm by, well, containing your partner’s semen upon ejaculation. Unless the condom is torn or tampered with any time before or during sexual activity, it is a guarantee that you won’t get pregnant. Even pulling out right before ejaculation still puts the woman at risk for impregnation due to the semen leaked during sexual intercourse. You understand this, right?” Dr. Giffari was too into her explanation to bother waiting for a response from Kyrie. “Birth control pills work by suppressing your ovulation so that your partner’s sperm has no egg to fertilize. It’s extremely unusual that you were impregnated as soon as you switched to birth control. I have never heard of a case like yours… I—ahem—assume that you and your partner had sexual intercourse immediately after the first seven days of beginning the pill, correct?”

            “Yes…” Kyrie answered, feeling a bit embarrassed to admit that she and Nero had done it so soon. She hoped that the doctor didn’t think Nero and Kyrie did it like rabbits or anything. Yes, they were a young couple very much in love but… Kyrie sighed. What did it matter what people thought of them? She was used to her and Nero being judged simply by appearance.

_'Slut.’_

            Memories from Fortuna echoed in the back of her mind as Kyrie recalled what some people had spat her way.

_‘Whore.’_

_‘She’s sleeping with the demon.’_

_‘What a harlot!’_

_‘Guess she prefers demon cock…’_

_‘She sings pretty, but her mouth is probably dirty as hell.’_

_‘She was just a dirty little tramp all this time.’_

            “Did you, by any chance, forget to take a pill around the time you and your partner had sexual intercourse? After the first seven days?”

            “I… Um, yes!” Kyrie’s expression remained mostly blank even as she lied straight to the doctor’s face—something she rarely ever did in her whole life. “Yes, silly me, I remember now. I missed a pill or two because Nero was.. Um… we were d-doing something… important.. And I forgot!”

            She tried not to cringe at the poorly made excuse but the doctor seemed to accept it without thought.

            No, Kyrie knew for certain that she had never missed a single birth control pill. She had taken it diligently every day, at the exact hour scheduled, and even Nero checked in—although, rarely, because he could never ask without stammering, much to her amusement.

            “But still…” Dr. Giffari was peering at the monitor again, examining the twin babies cradled together, “it doesn’t explain this…”

            “Explain what?” Kyrie was almost afraid to ask.

            The obstetrician-gynecologist slowly drew her attention back towards the patient on the bed, and she stared long and hard at Kyrie before eventually answering, “Your last menstruation puts you at about three months into your pregnancy.. But your babies are far more developed than three months… They’re at least four months developed. Almost five…”

            “That’s… That’s not possible.” Kyrie breathed, studying the monitor to observe the babies lying dormant in her womb.

            It was absolutely impossible. This pregnancy, the womb pulsations, everything. None of it should have been possible.

            And yet… the prominent swell of Kyrie’s belly was all the validation she needed.

            Again, she thought of her beloved devil hunter, fighting in the heart of the city.

            _Oh, Nero..._

* * *

            **About 3 months ago...**

            "You should be sleeping.” Kyrie whispers to the young devil hunter lying beside her.

            It’s past midnight, and the house is dead silent, save for the constant ticking of the clock or the incessant **_drip drop_** of the kitchen sink. It’s the middle of March but the young couple feels perfectly cozy in bed together.

            Pale ice eyes stare back at Kyrie, as they had been for a while now, and the corners of those eyes crinkle slightly to accompany the small smile on the man’s face.

            “Nero, you just came back from a mission.” She says again, brushing the swell of his cheek and he closes his eyes briefly to savor her touch. “You need to rest.”

            “Speak for yourself.” He raises a brow at her. “You spent all day at the orphanage again.”

            “The children missed you.” Kyrie’s lips curl up into a soft smile. “They wanted to know where _Nero the Hero_ was… I told them you were busy fighting bad guys, but they still wanted to see you.”

            “Did they? I think they just missed their piggyback rides…”

            She giggles, remembering how the kids always crowd around Nero to take turns getting a piggyback ride from him, or have him pull them up simply by the strength of either arm. Instead of fearing his Devil Bringer, they had thought it was the coolest thing they’d ever seen. A ‘superhero’, they call him. _Nero the Hero_.

            And Kyrie agrees.

            “Besides, it’s hard to catch some Z’s when all I see when I close my eyes are the ghost faces of those Hell Vanguards. Not a pleasant image…” Nero’s smirk remains and Kyrie wonders if demon hunting truly does cause him insomnia. Before she can express her concerns, however, a wicked glint passes in Nero’s eyes and his hand grazes the edge of her jaw. “But I think you can help me with that…”

            She swears her heart skips a beat when he leans in to steal a kiss from her, soft and way too gentle. Enough to make Kyrie follow him across the pillow for more. When she doesn’t show any signs of protests, he continues to pepper her mouth with quick, chaste kisses that elicit a smile from her.

            She feels his hand tuck a caramel strand behind her ear before sliding down her neck to finger the chain of her necklace. The gold rope accents the pearly white column of her throat where he can feel her pulse beat steadily against his fingers. She is vulnerable to Nero like this, but she will bare her throat willingly to no one but him. Not like that time when Agnus had forced her, laying his blade exactly where Nero was touching her now.

            The hand then slowly drifts down to her front to begin unbuttoning her cotton white nightgown.

**_…. Plip!_ **

**_…. Plip!_ **

**_…. Plip!_ **

            Each button pops open between beats and her body is gradually warming in anticipation, yearning for more of his touch. To feel his warm body, rough and hard, press against her softness.

            When a calloused hand gently palms her left breast, Kyrie wonders if the devil hunter can feel the thumps of her heart beating in his grasp. She wants to ask him if he hears it too, but then a thumb flicks the rosy tip of her breast and she sighs against Nero’s mouth. A smile forms against her lips and the devil hunter mumbles something she can’t quite catch but Kyrie knows it is something sweet and endearing.

            The hand squeezes Kyrie’s breast once more so that Nero can hear her sigh again, listen to the pleasure in her quiet voice. The next thing she knows, the hunter is looming above her, eclipsing her petite frame. She leans up slightly, to help him peel off the thin nightgown separating her from him, and it doesn’t feel cold at all when she lies completely nude beneath the hunter. Chilly eyes stay on her face and Kyrie blushes when he looks at her so intensely like this because she knows that Nero considers her the most beautiful thing to ever walk the Earth.

            The Order had taught Kyrie to never pride on such narcissism for that was one of the seven deadly sins that the demons of the Underworld devoted themselves to. She was also taught that lust was a blasphemy, which is why Kyrie used to suppress her feelings for Nero. Her parents had always intended for Nero to be a third sibling; another brother to Kyrie. Growing up, however, it became more and more difficult to look at him as her adopted brother rather than as a man whom she wanted to be with in body and soul.

            She giggles when Nero leans in for a moment to lay a line of kisses across her neck. A necklace of love that is tattooed on her skin, invisible but searing all the same.

            Most of all, it had been the Order’s teachings that stopped Kyrie from ever indulging in self-exploration; masturbation had always been something that intrigued her, but the shame of it… Even if she were to hide in her room to reach beneath her skirt and test herself, see if what the books said were true, the watchful eye of Credo always made Kyrie pause and fix her panties before she could truly start experimenting.

            Cropped, snow-white hair tickles her jaw when Nero draws back to pop two fingers into his mouth. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of her.

            The fall of The Order had been a shock, but Kyrie never knew how wonderfully liberating it would be as well. To be able to show a little skin, or even just feel the rough material of pants hugging her curves. To not have to be ashamed of showing interest in anything that would have been considered a heresy. And Kyrie never missed the restraints of the corsets that Fortuna women traditionally wore—no, thank you!

            The gold chain around her neck jingles like music when she giggles again, biting her lip as Nero shifts aside her pendant to press his mouth against the valley of her breasts. The stubble is ticklish on Kyrie’s skin and she lets out an elated squeal when he gives her flat belly a generous scatter of kisses. Her reaction makes him smile and she feels it against her abdomen.

            The collapse of The Order and their religion had, ironically, been a blessing in some way. A defeat of corrupted power that manipulated the masses in the name of good. It had freed the both of them in every sense possible.

            So when Nero’s hand slowly dips into the crevice of her thighs, Kyrie is not ashamed to voice her approval in a sharp cry. She doesn’t bury her face into the pillow or cover her mouth with a hand. Instead, she meets her lover’s gaze, amber connecting with pastel blue as Nero gradually pushes a human finger into her tightness. His eyes are intently scanning every inch of her face, studying Kyrie’s micro-expressions for any signs of discomfort. His finger gently slides against her velvet walls to touch her deeper, gently stretching her in preparation of what’s to come, and she is already forgetting how to breathe.

            His finger comes away, coated with arousal, and Nero pushes the digit back into her, all the way in until the heel of his palm grinds on her clit and Kyrie jolts at the spike of pleasure. His hands are calloused from constant fighting and fixing his weapons and the tough skin feels glorious on Kyrie’s delicate flesh within.

            Attacking her neck again, the hunter takes his sweet time pumping his hand against his lover, eventually adding a second finger.. And then a third.

            He knows exactly what she wants, but he has yet to give it to her.

            Not until he knows she is ready for it. Until she is wholly wet to receive him in every way he wants her to.

            “Nero…” Kyrie gasps, reaching up to cup her lover’s face before he can try adding a fourth finger into her. There always seems to be stubble around his jaw, no matter how often he shaves, and it tickles her palms. “Please…”

            The sharp claws of his Devil Bringer trail lethally between her breasts, tapping the crystal of her necklace and then grazing her vulnerable belly before wrapping around the curve of a thigh. He draws her legs apart until either knee touches the smooth sheets of their bed. Nero’s eyes flick down to where he has her spread open for him and she notices his chest heaves slightly when he deeply breathes in her wanton scent wafting between them.

            Shyness makes Kyrie look away when Nero does this. She knows his demonic abilities grant him a heightened sense of smell, allowing him to catch even the smallest hint of her lust and arousal.

            Cinnamon and something else, he had once described her aroma. Something distinctly her. She guesses that ‘something else’ is a primal thing only someone like Nero can catch.

            “I’m going to put it in you now, Kyrie.” Nero breathes.

            She swallows hard, but then nods.

            He is extremely careful and precise when a single claw pushes slightly in between her folds and Kyrie holds her breath when she feels the sharp nail drag across the length of the wet lips, picking up her body’s dew. She shivers from how deliciously sensual the one claw touches the delicate flesh between her thighs. The way the nail traces the wet seam of her entrance. The pressure is so light but she can feel the delightful, scraping sensation and she wiggles her hips slightly to take in more.

            His throat shifts but it’s the intense look on Nero’s face that tells Kyrie just how focused he is, determined to please his songbird but also concentrated on not hurting her.

            Over the years, she had watched as her childhood friend, her adopted brother, and lover—all in one—had matured from a precocious boy into a young man. And with that maturity, his arm had evolved. Blood red darkening and giving way into an inky black with shades of glowing blue. This arm had been used to slaughter and extinguish the wicked forces of Hell, brutally slaying demon after demon, spilling blood and ripping through guts in the process. Its claws could lacerate the sturdiest of enemies to mere ribbons of flesh and bone. The power it held had pulverized the Savior’s vessel into dust and rubble years before.

            It is ironic to think that this same arm—the arm of a demon—is touching her so lovingly, carefully fingering her to rapture.

            It isn’t the first time Nero has touched her like this either, having cautiously used the Devil Bringer to bring his lover to ecstasy countless times. Years of experience and trials have taught him how to slowly insert a claw into Kyrie at the right angle until the black scales are fully engulfed by her lovely heat.

            The idea of allowing this sort of unnatural—almost beastly— foreplay would have horrified any regular human.

            For Kyrie, however, it is a special type of intimacy and trust that not many are privileged to.

            The contrast of icy, steel scales against her hot flesh within had pleased her more than she could have ever expected. The rough, blue skin between the black scales rubs her so perfectly that she accidentally lets out a sharp whine. It is a foreign, but erotically salacious sensation that nothing else could ever come close to replicating. And Kyrie knows that it makes Nero happy to find that his demon arm can please just as well as it can destroy.

            Her breathing quickens, breasts heaving up and down, and Kyrie bites her lip upon feeling another thick claw gingerly push its way into her. “ _Mmn!_ ”

            The process is calculated and slow. Every second is spent with considerable effort on Nero’s part as he inserts the second claw in meticulously. Tight walls stretch to fit the demonic fingers, preparing her for the ritual that they will soon begin.

            He could add a third finger, but Nero rarely ever does that because he doesn’t want her to cum just yet. Instead, he continues to pump her leisurely, the two claws gently rubbing her insides, but he is incredibly careful enough not to scratch her or cause any pain. Years of experience and hard work has made Nero the best kind of lover anyone could ask for. He knows Kyrie’s body like the back of his hand—and that means he also knows all of the sweet spots that make her go weak in the knees.

            She remembers how the remnants of the broken Order had called her a slut for loving a man of demonic heritage. She didn’t care then, and she certainly doesn’t care now. If anything, the former songstress wonders how those fanatics would react if they were to learn that their beautiful maiden willingly sleeps with the demon, having gifted him her virginity without hesitation. Allows the demon to taint her maidenhood with a clawed touch in the darkest of nights, the brightest of mornings, and even during lazy afternoons. Lets the demon make daily love to her, over and over, constantly satiating his greed and lust as well as her own.

            Because if Kyrie is to be a sinful maiden, then she is a match made in heaven with this demon who worships her, day and night, body and soul.

            “Kyrie…” Nero’s voice is strained when he calls to her.

            Hot breath gently fans Kyrie’s cheek and she glances down at the thick bulge Nero’s dark shorts can barely contain. She knows he is holding himself back for her. He always does. And she reaches up to brace her hands against the swell of his pecs. His chest is warm and smooth to the touch, with slight nicks and scars decorating the pale torso. No scar ever stayed longer than a week.

            Years of battles with demons had developed his body into that of a warrior’s. There isn’t a single inch of fat. The devil hunter’s body is sculpted marble, honed into a lethal weapon. Instead of ice coldness, however, Kyrie feels nothing but warmth and she slides her hand across his chest to feel the heart quickly beating within her part-demon, part-human lover.

_So warm…_

            She raises her eyes to meet Nero’s again and he leans down for another kiss she is more than willing to give him.

            A small mewl escapes her lips when his claws finally tug out of her and she can’t help but feel slightly empty, already missing the strange, rough sensation of the waxy scales touching her where no one else would ever touch.

            Their kiss breaks when Nero pulls back to lick her arousal coating the scales of his claws. He never let's a single drop go to waste; every part of her is precious to him.

            When he’s done, one human hand braces her left thigh, and one scaly hand braces the right to hold her open for him. Kyrie knows what he’s about to do because he always does this before they start their ritual. Yet, her mouth still forms a small ‘o’ and she cries out ‘Nero!’ when he presses his mouth between her legs to give her another, more intimate kiss.

            She can practically feel him smirking against her wet folds but she cannot react in any other way but in sweet gasps as his tongue tastes the temple of her body, drinking the holy essence that he teases out of her depths.

            “ _Ahh..!_ ” Her core is strung high with pleasure and it feels like delicious shockwaves are echoing within herself every time Nero’s tongue scrapes and prods and licks and—

            Fingers spread open her rosy folds and the delicious sensation of Nero’s stubble scratching the sensitive flesh between her thighs is Kyrie’s only warning before his tongue delves in.

            “Nero!” Her moan comes out throaty this time. Nothing like the sweet, lilting voice that the hunter covets of his little songbird.

            He devours Kyrie like she is a feast spread out for him and he is a greedy, ravenous animal having his last supper.

            Several more elated whimpers are drawn out of her. The more moist she becomes, the more dew Nero steals from her body.

            Small hands dive to grip the man’s head, fingers burrowing through the short, soft strands of silver as he gives her plush folds one last lewd, but devout kiss.

            The bed creaks slightly when Nero straightens up, knees digging into the sheets between Kyrie’s slender legs and she feels herself wetten even more at the sight of her lover licking the corner of his mouth clean of the strings of arousal clinging around. Kyrie is still trying to catch her breath when Nero wipes his glistening chin and then moves to release himself. His cock bobs once, then twice in freedom. It stands upright, erect, and nearly pressing against his pelvis where a light smattering of silver hair narrows down to the thick base. A milky bead of precum sits at the tip before sliding down the length of him, tracing the thick veins bulging against the blushing skin. His ballsack is notably heavy with need, eager to relieve itself of sexual tension and cum.

            Kyrie’s breath freezes for a moment. Even after all these years together, she still can’t get over his large size and there’s always a small tingle of nervousness right before their ritual. Nonetheless, she loves him and trusts him with every fiber of her being.

            Nero leans over her once more, caging her in the confines of his corded arms, and Kyrie finds it ironic that he is a lethal hunter with the arm of a demon and the blood of a dark knight.. And yet, she never feels more safe than when she is in his arms like this.

            From innocent hugs to intimate embraces, she feels most safe in Nero’s arms. And it amazes her that the orphaned boy who was meant to play the role of her brother had grown to become a good man whom she cherishes as her lover.

            She cranes her face up for another kiss and Nero obliges by pressing his slightly chapped lips to hers, breathing in her scent of cinnamon and something distinctly her. Her hands come up to feel his heart pounding in his chest and then she trails those hands down, feeling the ridges of his hard abs flex beneath her touch. His stomach is a solid wall, contoured with muscle and she traces the curves with her fingertips until he breaks the kiss to let out a low groan when she nears his erection.

            Before Kyrie can touch him where he most needs it, Nero takes her hand and presses a hard kiss to the pulse of her wrist. His eyes are still on hers when he pins Kyrie’s hands down on either side of her head. Their fingers entwine together, the claws of his Devil Bringer slightly catching the sheets in the process. To anyone else, this would have been a picture perfect image of a demon ready to ravish an innocent maiden. Or a hunter seizing his prey.

            But to Kyrie, it’s just Nero.

            She feels like she is the center of the world—his world—as she stares into the icy eyes staring back at her, so intense and fierce. Their heated gaze remains connected even when he finally presses the bulbous tip of his cock against her. And then he slides all the way home until he is buried to the hilt, the girth of him forcibly parting her flushed folds and stretching her slick walls. Stretching, and stretching, and stretching to accommodate the intrusion, her body struggles to welcome every inch of him inside her.

            “ _Ah!_ ” Kyrie’s breath hitches from that one smooth stroke and she briefly forgets to breathe again even though her mouth has dropped open as if to gasp.

            A deep groan of appreciation rumbles out of Nero and his colored cheeks are a telltale sign of just how content he is to be fully seated within his lover.

            There is a tight pressure in the pit of her belly but the sensation is all too familiar and it accompanies the strange fullness that makes Kyrie want to cup her belly.

            They are like jigsaw pieces with the way that their bodies fit together. The delicious burn of her insides stretching to fit Nero within her forces Kyrie to suck in a shaky breath.

             _So full..._

            His hands tighten around her own and Nero’s brows are pinched together in concentration and pleasure. He watches Kyrie intently, observing the way her face glows happily, cheeks blushing red like a wild rose. And Kyrie lets out a pleased whimper when he gives her a gentle thrust, drawing all the way back until only his tip lays between her folds and then firmly pushing all the way in.

            She can easily feel his cock throbbing, burning hot in her lower belly. The friction of his bare skin rubbing against her plush walls is mindblowingly gratifying and wickedly sensual and Kyrie knows for certain that neither of them will ever want to go back to using condoms.

            He thrusts again, firm but gentle and Kyrie’s moan makes him smirk.

            He knows exactly how to make her sing, and right now, he is simply teasing her.

            Nero can fuck as hard as he fights. Aggressive and skillful and gloriously brutal. And if he truly wanted to, he could make Kyrie scream so that even the Heavens above would hear the young couple.

            “Are you ready?” Nero asks as always, giving her one last chance to back out if she has changed her mind.

            Kyrie nods.

            Their hands remained laced together when Nero leans down to kiss her.

            And then their ritual begins.

            The bed squeaks obnoxiously loud with every powered stroke Nero gives to her, pressing her body into the bed repeatedly. Kyrie has her legs wrapped around his narrow waist, heels locked at his back to keep herself as close as possible to him. The sharp v of his hips jut against her thighs as she receives him, over and over again.

            Nero is as thick as he looks, and Kyrie has always wondered if his generous size is partly in thanks to his demon genes or what, because it feels like he is scraping a part of her out every time his hips roll in and out, in and out. A steady motion that cultivates the fire burning in her belly, eliciting soft, sweet gasps out of Kyrie. She can feel every inch of his dick filling her cunt to the max, the way the ridge of his veins grind against her velvet tightness. Every calculated thrust stokes the fire in the pit of her belly.

            His thickness forcibly parts open her tight channel and Nero knows how much it drives her crazy when the fat head of his cock ruts eagerly against the entrance of her womb. It’s a special, promiscuous kind of kiss that stokes the fire of her core into a blaze and forces out a loud cry from Kyrie.

            Now he’s making her sing.

            Nero makes sure to kiss deep within her there plenty of times, angling himself so that he keeps pounding that sweet spot at the very back. Each hit makes her sob with unbridled pleasure, head thrown back against the pillow as her womb receives the brunt of his strong thrusting.

            There is a strange aching sensation in the pit of her belly and Kyrie doesn’t know what it is, but it drives her to try and spread her legs farther to see if her body can somehow take Nero in deeper even though he is already grinding against her womb and the weight of his warm sack is hitting her butt.

            A lovely warmth bathes the left half of her face and Kyrie glances aside to find Nero’s Devil Bringer glowing like a candle lit in the night. The intense light of it is beautiful and it envelopes her hand in blessing.

            There is a dull thumping noise in the background and it takes a while for Kyrie to realize it’s the headboard of their bed hitting the wall. The noise joins with the mattress’s sharp creaks and dips. Kyrie is thankful that Nero and she have the entire house to themselves so that they can unashamedly make love and freely express it so.

            Lewd, squelching sounds resound from their bodies and Nero is smiling lightly at the knowledge that she is this wet because of him.

            “ _N-Nero..!_ ” Kyrie moans out in warning. She feels like a livewire about ready to explode at a moment’s notice. “ _Ah! Ah! Ahn!_ ”

            “C’mon, baby!” He murmurs in a voice gruff with tension and determination. Sweat beads the devil hunter’s handsome face as he continues to thrust into her, hard and fast now.

            The former songstress is gasping and moaning and her core tingles with sexual energy that is ready to tear through her body.

            Nero keeps her hands pinned down on the bed even when Kyrie finds release. It’s like fire and ice are blowing across her skin, filling her veins with ecstasy. Her back arches and Nero presses his sweaty face into the junction of her shoulder to brand a kiss there, listening to Kyrie’s melodic wail of pleasure while continuing to roll his hips into hers.

            This is an exclusive song that only Nero has the privilege of hearing.

            She feels heavenly. Her walls are clamping down on his length with a tight pressure. With how tight she is, her cunt is practically sucking him into her with every pump of his cock. He can feel her juices mixing with the beads of cum that continuously stream out of him and he relishes the sensation of it. Squelching, sucking sounds of their wet sexes echo loudly through the empty room but it only serves to spur them on and Nero continues to plunder the sweet depths of her body.

            Kyrie’s eyes are like melted caramel, golden and glossed over with heavenly bliss but her nails scrape down Nero’s back, drawing out an aroused groan from the demon slayer. Scars from her, he thinks, are the best kind.

            The powerful muscles of Nero’s back ripple beneath Kyrie’s hands as his hips undulate against hers. She knows he is close because she can feel him swelling within her and, since this is their first time without condoms, Kyrie is eager to know what it feels like to accept all of him. Every inch and every drop. It’s a naughty desire that both of them possess but have never mentioned.

            “ _Kyrie._ ” Nero speaks her name aloud like her title is that of a revered god. Icy eyes silently ask her permission and she gives him a shaky nod.

            Finally, he releases her hands only so that he may grip the curve of her waist.

            The both of them like it rough and they know it.

            “Nero,” Kyrie speaks slowly, still struggling to piece her mind back together even as she feels another orgasm inevitably coming on, “I.. I want all of you..”

            The hunter growls in response.

            An ancient ritualistic instinct overcomes all of his senses and he automatically slams his hips forward into hers, gyrating his hips in between each pump. The headboard of the bed bangs against the wall and Kyrie shrieks at the sudden roughness of their lovemaking. The golden light of his Devil Bringer is brighter than ever now and it almost lights up their bedroom like a sun. His claws are digging into her waist but have yet to break the skin and it’s enough to tell her that Nero is still in control of himself to some degree.

            Still, it doesn’t explain the burning red eyes staring at her and Kyrie feels so naked under his sight that she feels like his demon is staring into her very soul.

            Something within the devil hunter has snapped, unleashed by the call of his beloved songbird. Kyrie doesn't recognize the animalistic grunts that escape Nero’s mouth as he pistons in and out of her madly like a beast. Sounds of wet flesh slapping against each other is a symphony of sex, as is her beautiful gasps and moans that elicit more growls from him. Her shapely breasts are bouncing in a circular motion and Nero digs a hand onto the soft flesh to hold one breast in place while letting the other continue bouncing with their movements. The frame of the bed is starting to shake and creak loudly in time to their violent thrusting, slamming against the wall and rocking the bedside table. The springs are squeaking so harshly but it only adds to the chaotic orchestra of their moans and grunts.

            Kyrie’s eyes squeeze shut upon feeling two fingers roll the rosy tip of her breast before pinching the bud so that she breaks from her moans to release a silent scream of inexplicable euphoria. Her body bows like a taut bowstring but Nero simply grips her hips and drives his cock in and out of her, fighting through the contractions of her walls and relishing the pulsating sensations echoing with her.

            For a moment, she forgets who she is. All she knows is that she loves this man with every fiber of her body and soul. He and the demon inside him has a hold over her just as much as she has a hold over them. It is not a balance of power, however, but simply a will of love and the both of them breathe it with every thrust, moan, and kiss.

            When Kyrie opens her eyes again, Nero’s red eyes are still there, burning just as fiercely as ever. His demonic gaze would’ve left anyone cowering in fear and horror, but Kyrie is only aroused even as her body continues to tremble from the aftershock of having two orgasms. It takes several gulps of breaths and some time for her vision to clear until she notices Nero’s body is swathed in blue energy, as if he was on fire… and her eyes drift up, up, and up to behold the ethereal knight now looming above her.

            Two horns curve around its head but Kyrie can’t tell if it is encased in armor or scales. Either way, it seems to be made up of the same azure energy that engulfs Nero now, bathing her own body in sea of warm blue.

            Staring into its endless, bright eyes, Kyrie cannot help but feel a sense of familiarity and even.. Love.

            She smiles at the demonic knight above her, knowing for certain in her heart that she indeed knows who this knight is.

            “ _Mine!_ ” Nero suddenly snarls and his deep, echoing voice surprises Kyrie.

            Even as he continues to thrust relentlessly into her, Kyrie smiles at her lover, meeting his heated red gaze. She raises both hands to cup his face and, again, he snarls ‘ _mine_ ’, but quietly this time.

            “I’m yours, Nero.” She whispers soothingly to her lover as well as the demon within him.

            She was all of his and he was all of hers.

            The ethereal knight behind Nero suddenly moves, independent of Nero’s actions, and Kyrie is unafraid when the demonic specter’s clawed hand reaches down to touch the space below her belly button. There is a ticklish sensation deep within her belly when the knight’s claws slip into her body like a ghost.

            “Mm…” Kyrie bites her lip in reaction to the funny feeling. Her body is in a confused state of bliss as Nero maintains his persistent thrusts but the knight is reaching somewhere into her lower belly.

            “ _Mine._ ” Nero and his demon growl once more.

            She is so intent on what the knight is doing to her abdomen that Kyrie is caught off guard when Nero sharply grunts and presses his hips tightly to hers so that his tip is grinding against her womb. His cock is so swollen to the point that he’s practically locked inside her. It’s the first time the demon slayer has knotted within her body and she didn’t even know he could do that. Her eyes fall to Nero’s and Kyrie gasps upon feeling something hot spurt inside her in thick ropes, punching against her womb and filling her up.

            It’s so much warmer than she expected and her belly instantly feels so hot and full.

_Stuffed._

            That’s what she feels like.

            Stuffed to the brim and—oh!—he’s overflowing out of her.

            A mewl escapes Kyrie when thick ropes of Nero’s milky semen continue to fill her up and her cunt is practically clamping down tightly on his cock, squeezing out every drop he pumps into her.

            He is still knotted inside her and Kyrie is hyper-aware of how his tip is pressed up eagerly against her womb. Her belly is so hot and tight and full and she wonders if it's going to be like this every time they make love without condoms from now on. The idea makes her flushed face redden even more, but then she realizes the strange aching in her womb has subsided now.

            Kyrie’s walls continue shuddering as Nero rubs a knuckle against her swollen clit. She can't hold back her whimpers because she can still feel the effects of her orgasm and it doesn't help that he is twitching madly within her. His cock pulses and throbs through her wet heat, still spurting hot loads of semen into her.

            Running a hand through Nero’s cropped hair, Kyrie breathes carefully through the stuffed sensation of her belly and she can’t help but smile when she realizes Nero has been murmuring how much he loves her to no one in particular. It sounds like a litany of prayers, every word breathed out with such love and fervor and devotion.

            Finally, when Kyrie’s walls stop convulsing and Nero is no longer knotted in her, having finished emptying himself, he pulls out, both groaning as he does so.

            The demon knight is already gone and so is the red glow in Nero’s eyes when he peers down at her, still panting heavily. His carved chest is glistening with a sheen of sweat and Kyrie is tempted to run her tongue down the crack of his hard abs. Concern shines amid the haze of sexual bliss in the pale blue of his gaze and Nero is breathless when he says, “That’s.. never happened before…. Are you okay?”

            “Uh-huh.” The smile on Kyrie’s face spreads and she leans up to kiss him reassuringly. She is better than okay. Every fiber of her being is singing with joy. Sure, it aches between her legs—but in a wonderfully great way. The strange aching sensation in her womb is completely gone now, replaced by a certain, foreign heat that sits there.

            Nero still looks unsure and Kyrie can understand why. He has never entered this demonic form before in the middle of sex. It is a mystery indeed, why it happened of all times and why the knight touched her lower belly the way that it did. Nonetheless, the both of them are okay. Better than okay.

            She plays with the two-winged pendant dangling from his throat before sliding her hands around the back of his neck to finger the wet, silver strands. “I’m okay, Nero.”

            The devil hunter runs his eyes down her body as if to assess for himself that he hadn’t broken his songbird. Satisfied to see her unharmed, Nero suddenly grins at her. “We’re never going back to condoms.”

            Kyrie hums in agreement and she knows she will be seeing Nero’s handsome demon again soon enough.

            Ignoring the stickiness between her thighs as well as the heat in her belly, Kyrie cups the back of Nero’s damp neck to pull him down. She melds her mouth to his for a deep kiss, breathing his pine-and-snow scent as well as tasting a hint of her musk on his lips. Then, she whispers to her beloved demon slayer, “You think you’ll be able to sleep now?”

            “I don’t know.” Nero purrs in a low voice absent of the demonic warble from earlier when the knight had appeared. His smirk widens. “Maybe after a round two… or three.”

            “Nero…” Kyrie says in laughing voice. She kisses him again before whispering, “Get some rest now.”

            Her fingers brushing through his hair must have made the idea more tempting because suddenly his face is set with tiredness and he finally collapses beside her. There is still a small grin of both happiness and satisfaction when Nero fixes the blankets that had been kicked aside. Kyrie herself is still smiling when Nero spoons her from behind, muscular arms wrapping around her to pull her body up against his solid chest. The both of them are still sweaty and hot from their highs, but it doesn’t stop the two lovebirds from nestling together.

            Nero’s nose is pressed into the nape of her neck and Kyrie lets him keep his demonic arm slung over her waist. Black claws cup her belly protectively and Kyrie falls asleep in the arms of her hunter who follows soon after.

            The next morning, the two awaken to the news of a mysterious tree sprouting in the city center, bringing forth the first case of demon attacks in Red Grave City.

* * *

            “You got anyone you need to call?” Nero asked his new companion, stepping aside once more to scrape his boot on the sidewalk, cleaning it of the last piece of gory gunk.

            “No.” V shook his head, following the devil hunter to the fire-engine red telephone booth they’d been searching for for the past hour.

            It’d taken a while to descend from the spiraling tree and the journey back had been filled with questions and answers between Nero and V. The city streets, infected with the tree roots, were found to be deserted—save for the occasional ragtag bunch of demons lurking around the corners—and Nero had found his new ally to be quite intriguing.

            The man was.. Knowledgeable, to say the least.

            Knowledgeable, but not necessarily wise.

            Perhaps even innocent, in some way, which threw Nero off.

            It wasn’t the type of innocent as in celibate or pure. No, what Nero got from this young man was that he viewed the world with no filter. Nothing seemed to cloud his judgement and his own questions were conceived straight out of curiosity. Somehow, V reminded Nero of a newborn child, gazing at the world with acumen and wonder.

            “You wanna sit down while I make this call?” Nero glanced at V who awaited by the entrance of the phone booth. His eyes trailed down at the man’s cane in indication.

            V followed his gaze and he shifted himself so that he was leaning more on the booth itself rather than the cane. “I will be fine.”

            Shrugging, Nero fished his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans. The worn leather flipped open and he tugged on a zippered fold to procure some change. The coins jingled as Nero shook his wallet slightly to find some quarters.

            “She is very beautiful.” V spoke up.

            “Huh?” Nero turned to look at V who nodded at the wallet.

            A 2x3 photo of Kyrie lay protected beneath the lamellated cover of one of the wallet’s front pockets. Warm, amber eyes matched the soft smile of the young woman. Her caramel hair had been let loose when this photo was taken, falling in waves around slender shoulders. Nero had been keeping the photo in his wallet for years already, but the print was still crisp at the corners with not a single sign of wear or tear, unlike the wallet itself.

            “Sister?”

            “Heh, you wish, pal.” Nero snorted, tugging the little photo out for the man to study. “My wife.”

            He might’ve been a little smug at that last part but it was the truth, after all.

            “You’re married?” V looked sharply at him, dark brows set into a frown. He seemed confused, even taken aback at the fact. “She married _you_?”

            Nero’s brows pinched together at the implication of that question. “Yeah… Ya got a problem with that?”

            “You misunderstand.” V immediately shook his head, switching his cane from one hand to the other. “I.. am surprised that a human woman would willingly be with someone of your kind. She is aware of your demonic lineage?”

            “Kyrie knows everything about me.” Nero stated firmly. “And she’s not like any other human woman.”

            “The last time a demon and human fell in love, the worlds were never the same again.” V commented, his dark eyes remained trained on the little portrait he held in his hand. Again, there was that look of curiosity and wonder on his face, as if he was studying a fine specimen instead of just looking at Kyrie’s photo. “You love her… A demon in love is a very dangerous thing.”

            “I would never hurt her.” Nero’s arm was starting to throb uncomfortably now and he fought off his building ire.

            “Has she bore you any children yet?”

            Nero blinked in response. He hadn’t expected that sort of question and the way it was phrased somehow made Nero feel uncomfortable. “Not yet… and you need to know— _why_?”

            “Then how will you plan to have children?” V looked expectantly at the demon slayer.

            Shrugging, he gave V a pointed look. “Uh, the old-fashioned way? Didn’t your parents ever give you the bees-and-the-birds talk?”

            He’d anticipated the new guy to redden from embarrassment but V’s face remained stoic and blank. Where the hell did Dante pick this guy up?

            “What I mean is,” V began to explain, “the conception of demon infants is very rare, not to mention the process is something no one understands... _Joys impregnate. Sorrows bring forth..._ A human woman who breeds with a demon in love shall wreak havoc unto herself. It is the will of life and human depravity.”

            Man, this guy sounds like he needs to get laid, Nero thought to himself, unable to hide his baffled expression. Clearing his throat, he tipped a brow challengingly at the dark-haired man. “Well, then it’s a good thing I’m only _part_ -demon.”

            “ _I went to the Garden of Love. And saw what I never had seen; a Chapel was built in the midst_ ,” V stared contemplatively at Kyrie’s photo, dark eyes intensely melancholic, “ _where I used to play on the green._ ”

            “V…” Nero started, snatching Kyrie’s photo out of the man’s hands. “Anybody ever tell ya that you’re one strange guy? Ah, don’t get me wrong, I like a sweet poem on a Sunday afternoon… but it kinda gets creepy when you start questioning my love life and spouting word puzzles..”

            “I apologize.” V stepped back, shifting his cane into his right hand again. “I merely wondered if you would pursue your desires with your partner. Or if you would hold back those desires because of the demon within you. Humans are fickle, but demons.. When they desire something, they act upon it.”

            Nero squinted at the younger man, wondering if this was a trick question about his sex life with Kyrie and, if so, why the hell was he so determined to know about it? In the end, Nero simply shook his head and shoved the quarters into the slot at the side of the phone. Picking up the handheld device, he rested it on his shoulder to dial in the business number of his branch.

            Half a ring passed before the other end picked up.

            “You’re up, Nico.” Nero sighed into the phone.

            “Took you long enough! What, did ya take a nap on the way or somethin’?!”

            “I’ll explain later. Just hurry it up, will ya?”

            “I’m already on it, asshole!”

            Sure enough, the sharp squeal of tires echoed in the distance and, within seconds, Nico was peeling around the corner. The van nearly tipped on its side from the sharp angle of the turn, then it thumped loudly when it landed on all fours and raced down the street, finally screeching to a stop right beside the glass booth.

            “By the way, you’re Dante and Morrison’s client, right? How did you get involved in this whole—” Turning around, Nero found his new ally gone as if he had never been here at all. No cane in sight, no tail ends of a dark coat—nothing. V had disappeared like a shadow.

            There were still so many questions Nero had wanted to ask Dante’s mysterious client, but he knew he would only receive cryptic answers and vague clues.

            “You gon’ stand there all day, or what?!” Nico shouted from her rolled down window. “Who’s the slowpoke now?”

            Nero scratched the back of his head. Guess he’d have to investigate on his own then.

            Still, what an awfully weird guy...

* * *

             “Him.” The figure spoke from the comfort of the shadows, watching the business van screech off. “He has potential, would you not agree?”

            The large bird perched on V’s shoulder remained eerily silent, blinking its pitch black eyes as if it was bored.

            “He has many desires, unlike Dante... Aside from the fact that he is a son of Sparda, Nero’s blood would be a most valuable gift for the fruit. It is most intriguing. His two halves coexist in harmony; not one over the other. I wonder.. Is it love?”

            The bird dipped its head beneath a sapphire wing, preening the glossy feathers.

            “Find this Kyrie.” V glanced at his familiar. “Find out what you can about this human woman. As for Dante.. He is not the devil hunter he once was… Let us see what he will do. Qliphoth needs the blood of all the children of Sparda in order for its fruit to flourish. I intend to make good on my money.”

            The demon bird quietly squawked in affirmation. It flapped its wings several times before soaring off to complete its duty and find the devil hunter’s lover. V stepped forth from the cover of the shadows, watching his companion’s small form shrink into the distance, heading towards where the sun was setting.

            Switching his cane onto his right side, V made a small flourish with his left hand. A cloud of darkness exploded from his palm to reveal a worn, leather tome. There was no title nor author. Only a single letter in a faded, gold stamping.

**_V._ **

            He opened out his hand so that the book split open, falling onto a page with a scripture that no human had ever seen before. The inky writing was scrawled across the thin pages that frayed on the sides. There was a thin scent of senility with a strange trace of brimstone and the smell seemed to stain every inch of the book, but V did not seem to mind it.

            His dark eyes drank in every mark on the page until he found the line that he already had memorized down to the way it was written.

            “ _He who desires, but acts not, breeds pestilence._ ” V murmured and he raised his gaze towards the road where Nero’s van had followed. Snapping the book shut with a dull thump, he smiled slyly. “So it is written.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clarify, Nero entered his Devil Trigger mode during sex and, yes, his demon did some funky shit to Kyrie to ensure her impregnation (it fucked up her birth control basically). No, people cannot actually "knot" during sex. I just wanted to tap into the primal nature of Nero's demon side so I added some animalistic aspects. Yes, this chapter implies that Nero does want to have children with Kyrie. Yes, the lemon/sex scene was a flashback to that "certain night from three months ago, painted in hot shades of blue, red, and gold".
> 
> This chapter might be heavy on the science side, talking about pregnancy and whatnot, but I have a physiology exam to study for so this was my way of studying while working on my fanfic hehe.
> 
> The "Garden of Love" verse that V recites in regards to Kyrie is an actual poem by William Blake. If you don't know, V's character centers a lot around William Blake's works (i.e. the hints about V found in the music videos). The line about pestilence (which V also says in Dante's trailer) is also from a poem written by William Blake.
> 
> I've been doing a lot of research on William Blake and his works, so I will try to incorporate his themes into my story.
> 
> The next chapter will focus more on Dante since I finally have more information on his campaign. Don't expect a lot of this story to be from V's perspective because we still know jackshit about him and I do have plans for his character and I don't want to spoil them by writing from his perspective unless necessary.


	6. Before the After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2 short stories that take place in between the events of DMC 4 and DMC 5.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to update Chapter 6 yet before the DMC 5 panel at NYCC so I wrote these 2 short stories to publish first in case the NYCC panel revealed new information that would affect my main story.
> 
>  
> 
> **ALSO, THERE IS A SEVERELY IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT AT THE END.  
> **  
>  **PLEASE READ IT.**

            Today.

            Today was the day.

            The Festival of the Blade.

            The sun was shining, rising above the tightly knit buildings and homes of Fortuna. Warm rays bathed Nero’s face a rosy gold as he sprinted through the empty streets. The welcoming breeze helped to dry his hair still wet from his hurried shower and he gulped in breaths of the fresh air as his boots pounded down the cobblestone path.

            His wallet thumped at his backside, heavy and stuffed full of wads of cash that could feed him lavishly for the coming months—but no. All this money was meant for a special occasion. One that made his heart pound in his chest for reasons other than the early morning run. Reasons that were far more complicated.

            “The necklace!” Nero bellowed as he practically barreled his way through the creaky wooden door of the jewelry shop that many couples frequented.

            “Sparda almighty!” The elderly man nearly dropped the loupe he’d been using to squint at a rock the size of Nero’s pinky tip and the color of vibrant grass. His free hand had flown to his chest, clutching himself in surprise at Nero’s less-than-graceful entrance. “Son, you tryin’ to give me a heart attack?!”

            “Ah, sorry…” Nero mumbled, sparing the shopkeeper an apologetic glance before trekking over to the front counter. He crouched down, pressing a hand against the clear glass to seek out the one item among many jewels. His eyes landed on the object of his intentions and he let out a sigh of relief. “You still have it.”

            “‘Course I still have it!” The man grunted, slipping off his stool to unlock the counter. “Mind you, this is a limited edition and limited stock. They won’t bring a shipment like this one to the island any time soon. I was sorely tempted to sell this rare gem to the first customer willing to buy—and with cash, upfront. But, seeing as you was all beggin’ me to put it on hold for you…”

            “I said I'd have the money, didn't I? And I _do_ have the money.” Nero fetched his stuffed wallet from his jeans. Flipping it open, he let the elderly man observe how stacks of bills filled the folds of the leather, and he proceeded to fish out the thick wads. Every bill was crisp and organized; a telltale sign of months of extra hard work and effort that Nero had put into his demon-slaying duties to double or triple every paycheck he earned.

            His hands might have been shaking from the anticipation and the nerves, but perhaps the shopkeeper would assume that Nero was simply in a hurry, or just excited. After all, it had taken him nearly seven arduous months to save up for this one little piece of treasure that would adorn—not his neck, but another’s.

            Seven months of grinding in the forest, clearing the foliage of Scarecrows lurking among the bushes.

            Seven months of traveling across the island to hunt down demons.

            Seven months of work and sweat and blood and… That one month.

            That one day… when he’d been out on a mission the Order had assigned him. And then came the news of an attack on a group of children taking a little school trip, skirting by the forest edge. He’d defied orders, running as if his life had depended on it when it was really... Kyrie’s life. A candle lit so brightly among his darkness and it had come so close to getting snuffed out…

            “Yup, that’s all of it.” The shopkeeper nodded approvingly once he finished running all the bills through the machine to count them. He reached beneath the counter to retrieve the necklace and he handed it to Nero first. “You sure you want this one? Mighty expensive for a boy your age.”

            “Yeah.” Nero answered, studying the golden miniature of a four-winged angel embracing a rosy red jewel set in the center. His favorite color was blue, but there was something about the red of this crystal that was alluring.

            He’d seen this necklace on the window display months ago upon returning from a mission during the late noon. The golden rays of the setting sun had made the necklace light up like a beacon, putting all the other jewelry to shame and Nero had stopped in his tracks to admire the jewel for longer than he’d intended. There was only one girl who had instantly come to mind as soon as his eyes landed on the necklace, twinkling so brightly just from the dying sunlight.

            “So, who’s the lucky lady?” The man asked, squinting through his glasses to ring out the cash register.

            “Uh…” Nero hesitated, unsure of what to say. Fortuna was a small city where everybody knew everyone’s business. It was no secret that Nero had been an orphan from the day he was born, having been left on the doorsteps of the orphanage. He could count the number of friends and ‘ _family_ ’ he had all on one hand.

            “I know this ain’t for your Ma. And this ain’t the kinda gift you give to a sister.” The shopkeeper peered up at Nero, forehead wrinkling even more. “And I know for sure as hell this ain’t for you.”

            Nero scratched the back of his head, wishing the old man would just hurry up and hand the necklace over.

            “So, what’s her name, son?”

            Another moment of hesitation passed before Nero mumbled his answer.

            “Hah?” The man leaned in, tilting his head slightly towards the young knight. “Speak up, boy.”

            The heat on Nero’s cheeks seemed to spread all over his face as he grumbled aloud, “Kyrie…”

            “Ah, that songstress? Mm, pretty girl.” The man nodded approvingly, waiting for the entire receipt to finish printing out. “Sweet thing. All them boys in town are practically in love with her. It’ll break their hearts to hear she’s already got a lover.”

            Something tightened uncomfortably in Nero’s chest and he shuffled his boots awkwardly across the creaky floorboards. “It’s not like that… I’m like a brother to her...”

            He was basically her adopted brother, to be specific, having been raised alongside Kyrie and Credo by their parents. Of course, Kyrie would never see him as anything more than as a sibling. And Credo? Credo was as much protective of Kyrie as Nero was. No, if Credo ever found out that Nero’s feelings of attachment towards Kyrie extended far beyond that of friendship….

            As if Nero had just cracked a joke, the old man burst out laughing, frail shoulders quaking so hard that Nero thought the shopkeeper was going to fall over right then and there.

            “Son,” the man was grinning hard now, “I may be old but I ain’t blind. This ‘ere ain’t the kinda gift you give to any family unless she’s your wife or you wanna _make_ her your wife. I’ve lived my life and I know when a boy’s head-over-heels in love with a girl when I see one.”

            “Can I just have my necklace now?” Nero held out his hand demandingly, feeling irritation rising in his chest to match the redness of his ears.

            He had stayed here far longer than he had intended to, and he knew Kyrie’s performance was soon. It wasn’t just because Nero had promised to be at the service, but it was also because he truly loved to hear her sing. Nobody could have a voice like Kyrie's. Nero didn't believe in angels, but he liked to believe that Kyrie sounded like one.

            “Tell you what,” There was a twinkle in the shopkeeper’s eye and he reached into the cupboard behind himself, revealing sets of colored paper and ribbons. “I’ll wrap this up nice ‘n pretty for your girl.”

            Wait, what? Nero paused. Wasn’t that a bit too much? The fact that Nero would bother to wrap it would seem like a huge sign telling Kyrie ‘hey, I love you so much that I made sure to make it way more than presentable’ And what if Kyrie started to suspect of his feelings for her? Should he just leave it in a plain box then? Play it safe? But she did deserve only the best…

            “Now, red is a color of passion—”

            “Blue.” Nero blurted out without thinking, prompting the man to retrieve the blue set instead.

            _So that she’ll think of me_ , a voice in the back of Nero’s head echoed the thought and he shut that voice up.

            “Now, you best start wooin’ your girl before one of them town boys nabs her and puts a ring on it before you can.” The old man advised Nero as he finally handed him the gift, cloudy grey eyes full of seriousness and wisdom. “Tell Kyrie how you feel, boy… Life’s too short to be afraid of whether her love matches yours. And even if she don’t see you the way you see her, that don’t mean she don’t love you at all.”

            Nero looked down at the gift he held, studying the satiny blue wrapping encasing the rectangle box, intricate gold designs curling at the corners. A single, sky blue ribbon hugged both ends of the box and Nero couldn’t help but be impressed. Glancing at his free hand, he eyed the sharp tips of his claws peeking out from the glove he’d put on, his arm sling covering the rest of his Devil Bringer.

            “I could never be with her.” Nero muttered, coat swishing as he pivoted around for the exit, leaving the elderly shopkeeper puzzled.

            _Not like this._

_._

_._

_._

**A year later….**

“What’s this?” Nero asked, staring at the blue, rectangular box Kyrie had placed in his hands.

            His lover bounced giddily on the heels of her feet, biting a plump lip to hold back a grin. “Open it!”

            Smiling slightly at Kyrie’s excitement, Nero tipped a brow at her before tugging the ivory ribbon off and popping the lid open, revealing a necklace nestled against the satin. The chain led down to a pair of sterling silver wings sprouting from the ruby gem at the center, one silver wing twisting up and the other twisting down.

            “This is…” Nero took it out from the box to better admire the beauty of it. It was a simple design, but utterly beautiful and exactly his kind of style. He wasn’t much of a jewelry person and was often picky with his accessories, but this was undoubtedly his thing. Pale blue eyes met warm amber and he smiled appreciatively. “Thanks, Kyrie.”

            She took the necklace and Nero bent over slightly to let her put it on him. The clasps clicked together behind his neck and he fingered the pendant now resting against his chest.

            “I know you don’t really wear jewelry,” Kyrie began, cupping the edge of his jaw, “but this way, when you’re out on a job hunting demons, you can always bring a piece of home with you.”

            The smile widened on the hunter’s face and he brushed aside a curtain of caramel hair to touch the pendant Kyrie wore. A light blush dusted her cheeks, but she held his hand, pressing his hold against her chest. His Devil Bringer flashed gold, claws entwined with her delicate fingers.

Indeed, they had already given their hearts to each other long before either of them had even realized it. At least with these necklaces, however, they could always keep a piece of the other person with them.

            Leaning up on tiptoes, Kyrie pressed her lips to his and he closed his eyes to savor the sweet kiss, breathing in the scent of cinnamon, cookies, and something distinctly her. Something that told the devil hunter that he was perfectly right at home.

            “Happy birthday, Nero.”

 

             **END.**

* * *

 

            Worn boots lightly stepped over dusty tiles as Lady sprinted across the rooftops in pursuit of her target. Hot sweat made the thin blouse stick to her back although the night was a bit chilly. Holding Kalina Ann close to her body, she leaped from one roof to another, still a couple yards behind the demon she’d been chasing all night.

            One-hundred grand.

            That rich kid had placed a bounty on this demon for one-hundred grand. Lady had been surprised at the amount of money being offered for an average demon like this one, but she wasn’t going to complain.

            One-hundred grand and it was all for her taking.

            Just that thought alone gave her more than enough energy to keep on chasing the demon around town. Clawed feet clambering over the roofs left a trail of disheveled tiles and a pretty sound of those tiles slipping down to break on the roads below. This one was quite fast, scaly tail swinging side to side in a panic. All Lady needed was for it to slip up just once and then she’d bust its ass with Kalina Ann.

            “Oh, no you don’t!” She shouted upon witnessing the demon dive off the roof and into the alleyway below.

            She wasn’t going to let this opportunity escape. Not when that 100k was almost in her grasps.

            Chilly air whistled in her ears as she leaped after her bounty, slamming Kalina Ann’s blade into the wall to decelerate her fall. Sparks flew by her face, lighting up the dark pathway for split seconds as she slowly made her way down. Grunting upon landing, she rolled onto her feet, pointing Kalina Ann at the ready for any slight movement. Her eyes strained against the dark, and she found herself relying more on her ears instead. Despite how cautiously she was walking, the sound of her soles stepping on wet pavement was undeniable.

            This area of town seemed to be completely new territory. A part that she hadn’t scouted because the mayor had closed it off a few months ago for reasons she hadn’t bothered to check. Not that she still needed to check, anyway, because Lady soon entered an enclosure where her eyes were granted just barely enough light from the full moon hanging beyond the roofs surrounding her, tall and high like gates.

            A low growl had Lady aiming Kalina Ann towards the source of the sound and she froze at the sight before her.

            She’d found her bounty all right… along with an entire nest of demons.

            Her eyes flitted to the dark pool they surrounded and, noting the ruby tint to the murky water as well as the hand floating by, she realized it wasn’t a waterhole or anything of the sort.

            The demon growled again, but this time a whole symphony of snarls followed right after.

            Pairs of glowing red eyes began popping out of the darkness, one by one until Lady was nearly staring at an entire wall of demonic redness.

            It had baited her, and she had fallen right into its trap.

            _I might as well have served myself on a silver platter to them_ , Lady thought as she braced Kalina Ann against her hip. Her utility belt sat heavily around her hips, but she wasn’t sure if there was enough ammo for a whole family of them, including the extended family.

            “I hope that kid meant that it’s 100k _each_!” She grunted, launching a mini-missile at the first demon that dared to pounce at her.

            Heat fanned at her face and she ducked to avoid getting crisped by the explosion. Using a rocket launcher in close quarters wasn't a good idea only made evident by the ringing in her ears.

            Elongated snouts smeared with both dried and fresh blood raised up towards the sky to release a cacophony of roars, cursing the devil hunter. As one, they stampeded over to her and Lady dashed aside, swinging Kalina Ann in the process to gut the closest one. A spray of muddy blood splashed hotly against her shoulder, but she ignored it in favor of dodging the large claws swiping for her torso. The tight space of the enclosure made Lady rethink using Kalina Ann and she swung it over her shoulder, whipping out her VZ.61 Scorpion.

            The submachine gun lit up the dark area like a firecracker, felling several more demons that hadn’t moved fast enough to avoid the spray of bullets. A well-tossed grenade would be effective here, but the rest of the swarm blocked her only way out.

            As if aware that they had managed to entrap their next victim, the demons slowly positioned themselves in a semi-circle before her. Lady stepped back, assessing her situation, and she nearly slipped on a puddle of something wet. The brick wall was dry at her back, cold and solid and…

            Hm, perfect.

            Glancing right for a second, she made a feint for that direction, leading the demons to spring that way as well. It gave her a second head start and just enough space to sprint left, curving hard at the first corner. The last corner bending around the alleyway was just a few feet ahead but the demons had figured it out already. Still, if she could just make it out of the enclosure, at least they’d have no choice but to chase her in a single file line down the narrow path. It would give her a better advantage.

            Sensing one of them near her, she ran faster and then continued to run up the wall before backflipping off, holding out the submachine gun to release a burst of shots straight through its head, bullets breaking through the tough hide of scales. It dropped dead the same moment she landed into a crouch with no time to spare as two more demons crept up. A rough slide across the ground let her avoid the swing of a thick tail. With both still facing the other way, she ran up the back of the demon on the right, bracing her hands on its shoulders to help her spring off. It would have gone just right, and Lady would’ve been able to make her way down the alley... If only she had anticipated a tail to whip out at her. It wrapped tightly around her ankle, swinging her around before letting her go.

            A pained grunt was forced out of her as she slammed high into the brick wall. Lady felt weightless for a split second before sensing gravity pull her back down. Not wanting to fall straight into the jaws frothing in hunger below, she instantly reached for Kalina Ann and dug its blade into the wall. The strap of the rocket launcher went taut between her breasts, tightly holding her entire body above the four remaining demons. They jumped up for her, just falling short of her boots.

            “Don’t worry, I’ll give you a mouthful soon enough.” Lady said, reaching into her utility belt in search of ammo.

            Before she could reload her gun, a hail of bullets streaked through the dark pit, kicking up a shower of blood. The sound of those guns sounded awfully familiar and Lady’s face snapped up.

            “Dan—”

            A ribbon of blonde hair filled the darkness, followed by the crackle of yellow lightning bouncing around, chaining with the last four demons who then collapsed, maws agape and voided eyes distant.

            Lady kicked free of the wall and she landed beside the other devil hunter to study the fried corpses. The smell of rotting flesh and charred guts enveloped the tight space.

            “I’m guessing you’re also after the same bounty as I am?” Lady waved a hand before her nose for a breath of fresh air.

            “I guess so,” Trish tucked Luce and Ombra away before nudging a black boot against a burnt corpse, “except the bounty mentioned a single demon. Not a whole nest.”

            “A hundred grand?”

            “Fifty, it seems now.” The blonde devil hunter gestured around.

            In the middle of the scuffle, Lady had lost track of which demon had been the one she’d originally given chase to. Now it was impossible to tell amongst the burned carcasses scattered about, let alone figure who had killed the real target.

            “Maybe we can renegotiate with the client?” Lady suggested, not wanting to lose fifty-thousand.

            Trish tapped a hand against her chin thoughtfully. “I heard she’s become quite the businesswoman.”

            “A charitable one at that.”

            The one-hundred grand for an average demon seemed way too generous. Nobody, no matter how rich, would ever offer such an outrageous amount... Unless there was an ulterior motive involved.

            “Hey,” Lady glanced at her ally, “why do you think Patty offered that much for a regular job?”

            “That kid didn’t care about the money.” Trish brushed back her curtain of gold hair, icy eyes cast down but not towards the corpses. “But she definitely had an idea of who would come calling.”

            Lady frowned, still not understanding what the she-devil meant by that. Patty had the cash to offer the bounty, but she had purposely set the reward high for a simple job. _‘She definitely had an idea of who would come calling’_ There was only so few hunters out there in the world who had the experience to deal with even just the average demon. It was what made the demon-hunting business a money tree for hunters who knew what they were doing. And while Lady sought the massive cash reward, she was aware that there was a particular devil hunter who needed the money most, and likely would have taken the bounty job as well.

            “So, she was hoping _he_ would appear?”

            Trish sighed, and Lady thought she could detect a bit of sympathy from that soft sound. “It seems so… That child still comes by the shop occasionally, when she can spare some time.”

            The devil hunter then turned on her heel and jumped high, landing gracefully on the tiled roof above to make her leave.

            “Hey, Trish,” Lady peered up at her friend, “you think Dante will ever come back?”

            “Well, _someone_ needs to pay those bills.” Trish smirked before turning to the full moon bathing her face in silver and lighting her blonde hair gold. “Who knows?”

            A cold wind blew through and the blonde devil hunter was gone in a flash.

            Sighing, Lady adjusted Kalina Anna at her back and began stepping her way through the gore they’d left splattered all around. Ever since Dante’s disappearance just over a year ago, there seemed to be fewer demons prowling around. She wasn’t sure if the two events were linked together or what, but it didn’t explain the veteran hunter’s absence. As soon as he returned, Lady was going to make sure he coughed up the debt he still owed her—and with interest too! After all, he was the best kind of business partner a hunter could have.

            .

            .

            .

**The next day….**

            “What?! Someone else completed the bounty and won the hundred grand?! That’s not possible—Trish and I cleared the entire nest last night!” Lady leaned against her motorcycle, fuming at the loss of money. The tools and weapons she used for demon hunting didn’t come cheap, and after last night, she’d expected the cash would cover way more than the expenses she’d accosted.

            “That was just the nest.” Morrison sighed, holding his hat to his chest as if using it to shield himself from the glares of the two women before him. “The real target was tagged in the neighboring city, probably scavenging for other victims.”

            “So, who won the bounty prize then?” Trish asked, arms crossed tightly to match the unamused expression on her face.

            Lady also did the same, tapping a finger impatiently.

            Morrison lit a cigar before answering with a shrug, “Some devil hunter by the name of Lucia.”

 

             **END.**

* * *

 

**_ IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT! _ **

** P L E A S E   R E A D **

  
I don't know what to say. I am EXTREMELY pissed off. As a content creator, plagiarism and credibility are things I am extremely particular of.

To explain the situation, I published a "kyrie pregnancy" theory video on Youtube. Now, the theory itself is NOT new to the fandom. Actually, I, and many other fans have been speculating this theory since as early as E3. There is even a Reddit discussion called "killing kyrie" where people discuss possible outcomes of her character and some people have mentioned she could be pregnant. So the theory is NOT new. HOWEVER, the ideas I presented in my theory video are specific ideas that I had NEVER seen anyone explain before.

I also made sure that no Devil May Cry youtube theorists had made a theory video of Kyrie's pregnancy. DMC 5 was announced in June, so all these theorist channels had 4 whole months to make this theory video. But there was NO theory video about Kyrie's pregnancy. Everyone was too busy making theory videos about V and/or Dante or complaining about microtransactions.

AND THEN, AS SOON AS I PUBLISH MY THEORY VIDEO ABOUT KYRIE'S PREGNANCY, A USER BY THE NAME OF JOJO WIFI PUBLISHES HIS OWN VIDEO COVERING THIS SAME THEORY EXACTLY 3 DAYS AFTER I PUBLISHED MINE. And that's not the only coincidence! Many of the ideas that he expresses in HIS video are the same ideas I expressed in MY video too!

 **Here is my theory video:**  <https://youtu.be/gD5VY6kLDwA>  
**And here is JoJo Wifi's theory video:**  <https://youtu.be/pWuBszFHhd8>  
_I recommend reading this whole note first before you spend the next 20 minutes watching these theory videos!_

I KNOW my audio quality is crap. I am a small channel that publishes whatever and whenever I feel like. I am NOT a professional Youtuber with professional equipment because I am a busy nursing student who takes countless hours out of her downtime to make content like fanfics or videos.

I have shown these videos to people I know in real life. People who don't even know anything about DMC and people who DO know. And those people have also noted the striking similarities between JoJo Wifi's video and mine. As a content creator, I know how easy it is to use and/or bounce off other people's ideas and NOT give credit where it's due. Now, JoJo Wifi's video is not an exact carbon copy of my video because no one is dumb enough to copy someone's essay word for word. That would be too obvious. However, it is such a HUGE coincidence that his video not only comes out 3 days after mine but it also covers many ideas that I had covered.

And not to brag, but I have taken both _AP Literature_ AND _AP Language &Composition_ to notice when an idea is very similar to each other and/or if someone is paraphrasing what you've said. Actually, ANYONE who has taken a basic English class should be able to notice the similarities in ideas.

But to be clear, here are the coincidences and/or ideas I noticed in HIS video that I expressed in MY video:

**1) My video was the ONLY DMC video on YT covering Kyrie’s pregnancy theory until JoJo Wifi posted his own video 3 days after. DMC 5 was announced in June. That means theory channels had 4 months to create a Kyrie pregnancy theory video. So why now did JoJo Wifi make a video 3 days only AFTER the FIRST person (me) makes one?**

  
**2) We share the same idea for why Kyrie hasn’t made an appearance yet.**

  
**3) We share the same exact idea about Nero’s “Devil Trigger” music video and how the baby in the x-ray has an arm similar to Nero’s Devil Bringer**

  
**4) We share the same idea of Nero finding out Vergil is his father but that Nero will be a father opposite of how Vergil is and also that Nero would be a great, loving father.**

  
**5) We share the same idea that Vergil pursues power but Nero, in contrast, pursues power to protect those he cares.**

 

**#3 is a _very_ specific idea that I have seen NOBODY else (on Youtube or on discussion forums) talk about as a hint of Kyrie's pregnancy. But what a coincidence that JoJo Wifi also has the same idea in a video he posts 3 days after mine, not including other ideas our videos share.**

If you take someone's artwork and make some adjustments and slap on a new paint, is it plagiarism still? YES, IT IS. Years of school and teachers and professors explaining and warning about plagiarism has taught me how to recognize it.

About 20 minutes after JoJo Wifi posted his video and I noticed our similarities, I commented on his video expressing my concern. He hid my comment. How do I know this? I became suspicious that I was one of the first 30ish comments and, after 14 hours since he published, my comment had received no likes/responses. JoJo Wifi himself did not respond to my comment although I saw that he had responded to comments before AND after mine. So I had a friend check the video and looked through the comments for mine and she could not find my comment. I found out soon that a user can hide comments on their own video..

I have since e-mailed JoJo Wifi over this issue. Let me just say that my videos are NOT monetized. I do NOT care about subs. I make content just because I want to realize an idea that I have. I always make content FIRST AND FOREMOST for myself. That said, all JoJo Wifi had to do was give credibility or a shout out where it is due. I would have given him the benefit of the doubt had there not been so many coincidences to make it into a HUGE coincidence, AND had he not hidden my comment expressing concern of plagiarism. I am a small channel and he is a bigger channel with a bigger following, so it is very easy for big channels to just ride a smaller channel's content.

SO! I am asking you as consumers and fans of my work... f you can watch these 2 theory videos and give me your input, I would be very interested to hear your thoughts on the matter. If you agree with the coincidences that I listed above and believe it's indeed a matter of plagiarism of ideas, please show your support and do not be afraid to make your voice known. Comment on his or my video, like or dislike, call him out if you believe it is plagiarism. Post on Tumblr or wherever. Just help show your support please. And if you watch the videos and disagree that it's not plagiarism then ok, I respect your opinion but it is _easy_ to disagree when you are not the content creator or have ever had any of your work stolen (art, music, fanfics, etc.)

**Plagiarism isn't always an exact carbon copy of the original work. Plagiarism comes in all shapes and forms and it is a prevalent issue amongst content creators.**

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **If you have read my entire announcement, then please understand that I CANNOT update Chapter 6 until I COMPLETELY resolve this issue.**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Again, please watch the 2 theory videos and give me your thought on the matter and if you think it really is plagiarism or not. To remind you, I am not accusing him of plagiarising the THEORY. I am talking about the IDEAS I presented in my video to support the theory. Ideas I have never seen anyone (on Reddit, Youtube, Tumblr, etc) discuss and explain to support the theory. I have only seen fans express the THOUGHT of Kyrie being pregnant.


	7. Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ghosts don't exist."
> 
>  
> 
> _Or do they?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after the mess that I described in the "IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT" in the previous chapter, I will explain the rest of what happened at the end notes.
> 
> To those people who took the time to read the announcement, watch the linked videos, and gave me their input, thank you. You know who you are.

            The years of working as a devil hunter had been unkind to the son of Sparda, to say the least. Of course, his unnaturally good looks were a saving grace from the amount of work and exertion he’d put in, sending countless demons back into the pits of hell. Even as he grew older, Dante only grew stronger, faster, and far more powerful thanks to his demon genes. The curse of old age could never hamper his supernatural abilities.

            And Dante _knew_ he was getting old. Not because he was starting to grow out an unkempt beard, or his shaggy hair, or even because of the deep set of wrinkles lining the corners of his eyes and mouth (Lady and Trish hadn’t been afraid to point those out).

            The one telltale sign of his old age expressed itself as a vexatious ache radiating across the center of his lower back—as it had been during his entire journey down the tree with Lady slung over his right shoulder.

            She’d gone toe-to-toe with Urizen alongside Dante and Trish. As much as she was perfectly capable of hunting devils, Lady was still only human and had been the first to knock out after exhausting much of Kalina Ann’s ammunition and other resources she kept in the utility belt hooked onto the black leather of her chaps and shorts.

            His companion was still unconscious, which had made the journey twice cumbersome when he had to fend off demons who sought to take the vulnerable human off Dante’s hands. He would rather not see his long-time friend get shish-kebabbed and have her blood harvested. Not when he was indebted to her again after borrowing some money to put his shop back in order—for now, at least. And he had a feeling that his debt would only accrue the longer this job went on.

            The afternoon sun cast a long shadow behind Dante’s back, covering the fresh trail of bodies in his wake while the hunter slung Coyote-A back into its holster. The days seemed to be growing shorter with the nights lasting longer, although Dante had only arrived at Red Grave City barely three days ago.

 

_“About three months ago, a tree sprouted in the center of Red Grave City.” Lady explained, leaning over Dante’s desk._

_“Sound like it’s a sign that Mother Nature isn’t appreciating the city life and pollution.” Dante shrugged, fingering the thick layer of dust that coated his mahogany desk. “Maybe the people there should consider going green.”_

_A single lamp in the corner dimly lit up the shop, flickering every once in a while. Piles of magazines lay scattered across the floor, right where Dante had left them long ago. Nothing seemed to have been touched in a long time, aging with dust and a musty smell that had forced Dante to leave the door open, the hinges creaking painfully loud._

_“Sure, if Mother Nature wants to eradicate humanity by unleashing demons from hell.”_

_“Demons from hell, huh? And just when I thought I was the only one who got a VIP pass out...:”_

_“Dante, the tree has been growing.” Lady explained to the hunter, sitting on the edge of his desk. “The first incident was reported last month. Nobody noticed that a Charles Watson had disappeared one night. Then, a bunch of kids decided it’d be cool to take a selfie, climbing the tree to brag to their friends. They went missing too. This month, the tree’s roots spread several miles out. Suddenly, you have dozens of people rambling about seeing demons prowling the streets, sucking people dry of their blood and leaving them like ash statues.”_

_“Look, I just got home and have been getting nothing but phone calls all day, requests in every part of the world.” He gestured to the telephone beside him, its line disconnected on purpose to avoid the loud ‘ **brrriinggg** ’s every minute. “What makes this job a higher priority than the rest?”_

_Lady tipped a brow at the disgruntled hunter. “Where do you think Trish has gone off to?”_

_“Said she’s gonna fetch some pizza.” Dante replied, leaning back with his hands crossed behind his head._

_“Funny.” Lady nodded to a spot behind him. “Didn’t know she needed to bring Sparda for that.”_

_“Wh_ — _” Almost falling over in the process, Dante sharply looked over his shoulder to find that the legendary sword was indeed absent from its position on the wall. In its place, a receipt was tacked to the board with an address circled in red lipstick. He sighed._

_Every time..._

_“She’s gone ahead to meet Morrison who is also meeting with our mysterious client.”_

_“Let me guess. The Mayor?” Dante squinted at the human hunter. “No, no_ — _governor? I gotta owe it to the kid; it seems my business has become popular over the years.”_

_“His name is V.”_

_“V… What, for Vendetta?” He gave her a wry look._

_“V, as in,” Lady smiled, “that’s all you’re gonna get.”_

_“School must have been a fun time for him.” He muttered contemplatively. “V, huh.. What kind of a name is that?”_

_Lady gave him a pointed look in return. “All you need to know is that the pay is more than enough to get your shop back in business.”_

_“Even after you take a cut of my cut?” He didn’t even want to think about all the debts he had yet to pay off. Not that it was something new since he always seemed to be in debt no matter what._

_“We’ll see about that.”_

_“Well, as_ you _can see, I_ am _back in business.” With a satisfied smile, Dante spread out his arms in gesture. As if on cue, the single source of light winked out, leaving the two in dust and darkness. His arms dropped to his side in defeat. “What else is in it for me?”_

_The human hunter paused thoughtfully before leaning in very closely to him. The red and blue of her eyes were vibrant despite the dark room._

_“In Red Grave City, there’s a popular joint famous for its food. Beloved by master chefs all over the world.” Lady’s voice was hushed and serious in contrast to the smirk on her face. “It’s called.. ‘Dante’s Pizzeria’.”_

_Done. Dante would have sold his soul to the devil in an instant for a slice of pure awesomeness._

_Ohhh, yeah, baby!_

_His throat shifted. “Fine. I’ll do this city extermination job.”_

_Red and blue eyes lit up to match the grin on Lady’s face. She hopped off the desk and started for the exit, calling over her shoulder, “Well, then get off your lazy ass and hurry up!”_

_The hunter groaned in response to his friend’s enthusiasm but followed after her, swiping Ebony & Ivory off the wall and hoisting Rebellion onto his back. He paused, flicking his gaze to the framed photo sitting on his desk. A thick layer of dust hid the beautiful figure smiling calmly at him and Dante took a moment to wipe his thumb through the ashy particles so that the woman was no longer covered in dust._

_The shop was in dire need of a cleaning_ — _he didn’t deny that_ — _but it would have to wait a bit longer. He just hoped that Trish had indeed ordered pizza as she had planned to. He was even desperate enough to take it with olives if needed._

_Shutting the wooden paneled door behind himself, Dante took two steps forward before a loud crash had him glancing over his shoulder._

_The door had fallen off its hinges, welcoming a fresh breeze to rustle through the open shop._

_He sighed. “Of course…”_

 

            Most of Red Grave’s buildings were abandoned with people fleeing to the borders to escape the center of the demon invasion. Large roots draped the buildings and blocked roads here and there. There was a nearby safe zone still secured for evacuation and that was where Dante was headed to meet Morrison and V to discuss a new arrangement of plans.

            At the thought of his new client, Dante remembered seeing Nero at the throne room. He should have expected the younger hunter would appear as well, although the sight of him was still surprising… and almost jarring. The boy had clearly inherited the aristocratic features of Sparda, thanks to his father. It was almost like looking at a younger version of himself—or rather, a younger version of Vergil. Such an image was rather amusing, considering Nero had indeed been a bit power-hungry when Dante first met him, but for reasons opposite of his own father. Hence why Dante had entrusted Yamato to the young man.

            If only….

**_BANG!_ **

            Coyote-A was still smoking when Dante aimed it at the second Hell Caina who received the double-barrel shotgun’s next hit.

            “Hey!” Dante raised the gun aside, gesturing as if he was offended by such behavior from the grim reapers, “Can’t you see this lady’s trying to get her beauty sleep?”

            The humanoid demons snarled as several more pools of darkness released a fresh wave of Hell Cainas. Three surged forward right after Dante set Lady against the door of an abandoned Volkswagen. The air hummed as several scythes sliced through only for the hunter to dance away on nimble feet, leading the group elsewhere.

            Setting his feet firmly apart, he crouched into a stance as Balrog enveloped his limbs in an armor of fire. The metal scales of the gauntlets and boots were ablaze. He could feel the Devil Arm brimming with the sealed power of the King of the Fire Hell and he unleashed that power with a dozen quick jabs at one Hell Caina in the span of a single second. The ivory bones of its skull cracked and exploded just as Dante ducked beneath the swoop of a second scythe. Pivoting on a single foot, he swung his leg across and striked the next demon across the hinge of its jaw so that its entire skull popped off and smashed onto the cement, a spark of embers raining down on it. Their dark robes collapsed onto the piles of bones, gradually dissipating back into the realm of Hell.

            “I saved the last dance just for you.” Dante said to the remaining Hell Caina, grinning as he weaved through the lethal swings of its blade. The demon hissed in frustration at the nimble movements of its prey. Dante chuckled as it lurched side to side in an attempt to cut down the hunter who simply ducked and sidestepped every strike.

            Getting bored now, he jumped high, preparing to pulverize the demon into roadkill with Balrog simmering hot around his right fist. He jumped again in midair, flying higher after summoning a magic platform. As if thinking otherwise, the Hell Caina stumbled away, dragging its scythe behind while it careened after the woman slumped against the car across the street.

            The tip of the scythe glinted under the light of the sun as the Hell Caina snarled, swinging its weapon to chop the woman’s head off. The blade dug into the sunshine yellow metal of the car door, landing just an inch away from the woman’s ebony hair,

            “Now, that’s not nice,” Dante clicked his tongue beside the pair, trapping the scythe into the car door with his foot, “attacking a lady in her sleep.”

            The demon’s jaws clicked open to release a roar. The stench of death on its breath was potent but not unfamiliar.

            “Oof! All right then, pucker up!” Dante said in warning right before smashing a solid uppercut to shut the demon up. Balrog’s flames exploded upon contact and the Hell Caina had already fallen apart by the time Dante landed on his feet.

            “Ah.. hope that’s the last of ‘em.. Heh, if only.” The devil hunter stretched out the kinks in his back before scooping his fellow hunter into his arms again.

            .

            .

            .

            “How is she?” Morrison said as soon as Dante joined him in the shelter’s waiting room. Kalina Ann sat on the chair beside the elderly man.

            “She’ll be fine.” Dante said, plopping down onto a plastic chair with a quiet groan. He briefly surveyed the scene before him; survivors and victims bowing their heads and muttering prayers, weeping, or both. It reminded him of Fortuna City. “V isn’t here?”

            The question was rhetorical; Dante knew the instant he carried Lady through the chapel doors that his client was nowhere near their designated meeting place. To be honest, he wasn’t very surprised either. There was something about that young man… Something that threw Dante off, but he couldn’t put a finger on it.

            “Guess he got caught up in something.” The investigator sighed, aware that his client had his own personal matters to deal with but he didn’t know what those matters were. “I could ask him for a raise in the deal? Now that Lady’s out…”

            “No.” The shake of Dante’s head was firm. Blue eyes were steady and brimming with more determination than the hunter had ever seen. He braced his knees and then quickly stood up, already crossing the chapel’s broken floorboards towards the exit. “I’ve gotta go.”

            “If Lady wakes up to find you gone without her…” Morrison started, implying the other sort of hell that Dante would go through.

            “He has Trish.” Dante simply said, not slowing down for the older man trailing hurriedly behind him. “He didn’t take her to harvest her blood.”

            He doubted artificial demon blood would serve Qliphoth as well as pure demon or human blood would, but that didn’t mean Urizen couldn’t use Trish at all for his own gains.

            Even without Lady, the weight at Dante’s back somehow felt heavy. Reaching behind, he grasped the hilt of Sparda, sensing the demonic power within the large blade pulse like an echo.

            The escape from Urizen had been narrow and not without loss and defeat, especially in the following moments after Rebellion had shattered.

 

_A crackle of yellow electricity zapped through the air for a split second, followed by several lightning bolts frying the large tree roots that had been speeding towards the vulnerable hunter._

_“Dante!” A voice woke him from the haze of shock._

_He turned to Trish who was crouched beside an unconscious Lady._

_Blue eyes flickered between him and Urizen even as the shards of Rebellion rained down all over his prone form like little bits of falling stars._

_“Dante, we have to go!” His long-time partner hefted Sparda off her shoulders and braced to toss it to him until a root wrapped around her belly._

_Her mouth was shaped into an ‘o’ and she let out a small gasp right before the root tugged her body away, blonde hair trailing like a ribbon of gold._

_“Trish!” Dante stumbled after her, finding the strength in his legs. It had felt like an out-body-experience to be forcefully thrown out of his demon form and back into his human form._

_He whipped out Ebony & Ivory, quickly unloading on the roots that ensnared his partner. They quickly released her and he leaped forward to catch the blonde woman only to be slapped away like a ragdoll by an intercepting root. He rolled across the floor upon impact, hearing his partner call out his name once more, her voice sounding far off now._

_Rolling into a crouch, Dante looked up just in time to see several more roots slithering towards Lady, sharp at the ends this time. He knew what those roots were for. Without hesitation, he dashed forward and reached his human companion only to be thrown back again by a pulse of energy. Lady's body rolled across as well._

_“Easy on the goods…” Dante muttered under his breath, glaring at the knight still sitting leisurely on the twisted throne._

_The single blue, slitted eye stared back at him._

_A silent second passed and then Dante was racing towards Lady again. Just as he expected, the roots wove through the air, heading straight for the both of them. At the last second, he dropped to his knees and slid beneath the roots, nabbing Sparda off the ground where Trish had dropped it. The large blade swooshed around, slicing the roots into pieces and leaving a spray of blood raining down on the elderly hunter who quickly scooped up his human companion._

_By the time Urizen had drawn the broken roots back, the son of Sparda and the human hunter had already disappeared in the blink of an eye._

 

            “This isn’t just about Trish.” Morrison followed him outside the chapel doors, ignoring the soldiers standing guard. “Something happened… Something to do with Urizen.”

            The hunter stopped in the middle of the road and stood so still that he could’ve been a statue. A quiet moment passed and then Dante turned his head towards the sun hanging low in the sky, almost touching the city’s skyline.

            “I saw him.” Dante spoke softly, voice heavy with exhaustion and.. Sorrow.

            Morrison frowned, concerned over his old friend’s change in manner. “Saw who, Dante?”

            Another muted second, and then the hunter threw an unreadable look over his shoulder. “Just a ghost….”

            Morrison watched him closely, trying to figure out what the hunter was thinking.

            “Well, I gotta go. Can’t keep a lady waiting…” Dante smirked. “Speaking of, look after Lady for me, will ya?”

            “You know she’ll follow after you.”

            “So long as she doesn’t start climbing that tree.” He muttered, although he was honestly a bit amused over such concern.

            “Dante, let me call Nero.” Morrison sounded like he was imploring him; a first for the elderly business partner. “I don’t know much about part-demons, but if he has even a drop of Sparda’s blood in him, that boy can help you—with or without your permission.”

            “All the more reason I better hurry.” The hunter chuckled knowingly. “Before Nero bags my catch. I got a lotta bills waiting for me back at the shop. Can’t risk losing this job to some kid trying to show me up.”

            “And.. if you see this ‘ghost’ again?” Morrison’s voice was laced with caution.

            “.... Ghosts don’t exist.” Dante quietly responded back. And then he was walking away, the wicked blade at his black glinting red and green with every step.

            Ghosts couldn’t possibly exist.

            Not for Dante.

            Because if they did, then he would have been able to see _her_ again.

            Ask her why did she have to die and leave them alone. Let her know how much he misses her. Apologize for not being strong enough back then and...

            Tell her that he loved her, and still does.

            “Ghosts don’t exist.” Dante reminded himself, letting his voice echo down the empty street.

            Indeed. There was no such thing as ghosts…

            So then why did the hunter feel so haunted?

 

* * *

 

            “What do you call this thing again?” Nero asked for the third time, inspecting the new gadget attached to the stump of his arm. “A Devil Bringer?”

            “Devil Breaker.” The self-proclaimed artisan-of-arms answered once more, never taking her eyes off the road they were speeding down. “That one’s ‘Overture’ and—don’t use it in here, idiot—ya wanna kill me too?!”

            Nero instantly lowered his arm as soon as the first crackles of electricity started running across the gold, mechanical digits. “You got more of these?”

            “Overture is the first one I built,” Nico explained, glancing at her partner to make sure he wasn’t fooling around with his new toy. “I’m still workin’ on the rest, but that should pack more than enough punch. Better than no hand at all.”

            That much was true and Dante’s last words echoed in Nero’s mind again as a reminder.

            _You’re just dead weight._

            Damn it, he hoped to see that old man again. If only to prove him wrong and show that he was no longer that hot-headed ‘kid’ from years ago. At the same time, shame twisted in Nero’s gut as he remembered that the last time he’d seen Dante, the veteran hunter had entrusted his family heirloom to him… It wasn’t just his arm that had been stolen, but also Yamato. The katana that had allowed Nero to awaken his Devil Trigger and amp up his power so that he could save Kyrie and defeat Sanctus with a flick of his wrist. Now that power was gone, thanks to that jackass.

           At the same time, Nero wondered why it had taken a while for his Devil Bringer to warn him of the demon. Years ago, it had flashed in response to Dante's demonic power, moments before the older hunter had appeared. The demon Nero had encountered at the house was undoubtedly strong. So then why the delayed response on his Devil Bringer? That was a question he hoped would be answered the next time he’d see that son of a bitch.

            However, despite missing the raw power of his Devil Bringer, the young demon hunter was quite intrigued by this specialized artificial appendage. It connected to an arm cap sealed at the base of his arm where he could easily twist and pop off the prosthetic in a second if needed. The materials used were definitely of high quality, as expected of the genius inventor he had for a partner. The material wasn’t so lightweight that it threw him off balance or felt out of place, but it still threw him off to look down and see metal instead of scales.

            “That man who took my arm…” Nero started, staring out the window to study the buildings zooming by. “He said that power belongs to him…”

            “What, did ya steal his arm or somethin’ and he decided to steal it back? Y’know, they say it ain’t stealin’ if you stole it from a thief.” Nico snorted, pushing the ruby frames of her glasses higher up the narrow bridge of her nose.

            “I didn’t steal it. I was born with it.” Nero said. A faint memory from years earlier echoed in the recesses of his mind.

_'Can you hear it? The cry of a soul? …. What is yours saying?’_

_‘What’s yours saying?_ ’ He had asked the mysterious voice that had haunted his dreams all those years ago.

_‘Power….’ The voice spoke firmly. ‘I want more power.’_

_‘I’ll take that too then.’_

            “Now, don’t worry, I got a Buster Arm prototype in the making for ya.” Nico glanced at him, eyes alight with excitement. “It’ll work just as good as your Devil Bringer… And, I have plans for a _special_ Devil Breaker for you and Kyrie, modified just for your guys' needs…”

            “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Nero narrowed his eyes at his business partner. He had no idea what the craftswoman had in store for him, but Nero was suspicious of that last comment about a special Devil Breaker.

            “Oh, trust me, you’re gonna love this one.” There was a mischievous glint in Nico’s eyes. “Especially Kyrie.”

            Before he could question her, the sound of gunfire and screaming interrupted their conversation and he peered ahead at the large fire blazing further down the road. A large, red double-decker bus blocked their path and Nico was forced to come to a screeching halt. Civilians poured through the narrow space between the bus and the buildings, faces streaked with sweat, tears, and blood.

            Bursts of automatic rifles lit up the dark street in bright flashes. One soldier emerged from the flames and smoke on the other side of the bus, only for a clawed appendage to pierce his torso from behind. Blood bloomed on the man’s padded front and his face was already set for a scream of anguish right before he fell flat on his face to be dragged back into the fray, leaving a red trail behind.

            “Time to get some practice in.” Nero said, hopping out of the van and strapping Red Queen onto his back. The turbo-charged demon cleaver was already purring eagerly for some long-awaited action, ready to do what it was built for.

            “Hey,” Nico climbed out of the driver’s seat and walked up to Nero to tap his new prosthetic, “The Devil Breakers were made to replace your missing limb and are weaponized for battle, but high output performance makes them break easily. I’ve built a supply of ‘em but just don’t go too crazy.”

            “Relax, you know I take good care of my toys.” Nero chuckled lightly before sprinting right into the fray.

            The insectoid demons were too busy preying on their human targets that they didn’t see the newcomer clad in blue heading straight for them. One finally turned around, mindless white eyes meeting Nero’s. Pincers, where a mouth was supposed to be, were drenched dark red, matching the hooked arms where its fingers were extended like claws.

            “HEY, ASSHOLE!” Nero greeted his first opponent.

            He jumped up just a few feet away, twisting his body in midair just so. The soles of his boots collided heavily with the thin torso, forcing the demon to double over from the force of the dropkick before flying back several yards.

            “Y-You’re not reinforcements..” The remaining human soldier said from his slumped position against a minivan.

            “Nico,” The hunter called for his partner, pulling the survivor up by his tactical vest, “take care of him.”

            “I’m a craftswoman, not a babysitter.” Nico stated, though there was hardly any complaint in her voice as she guided the soldier aside.

            “Y-Y-You can’t… they’re too p-powerful..” The soldier gasped, gripping his front despite the blood splashed all over his face and helmet. He shook his head frantically, watching the young man casually walk towards the crowd of demons crawling over the cars. “Gotta.. Gotta run! It’s hopeless!”

            “Cheer up, crew cut!” Nero glanced over his shoulder to nod at the panicked soldier. He punched downwards with his right arm, activating the power of his new prosthetic. Parts of the mechanical arm flared out to release a charge of electricity that lit up the Devil Breaker. “Take some notes.”

            He pivoted around in a split second, grabbing the demon creeping up on him by its leg. Sprinting forward, Nero smashed its body down and jumped atop of it, letting the demon’s face scrape along the road like a surfboard. After a couple of yards, he leaped off his ride and finished the demon with a powerful kick to the gut that threw it back into the crowd of demons on the other side, scattering them like bowling pins.

            Shrieking, they flapped their puny black wings to catch themselves in midair, creating a horrid sound like large insects buzzing around. They started to dive towards the demon hunter in an angry swarm.

            “Let’s see what this baby can do.” Nero smirked and then jumped towards the group, throwing his new hand out at them. The human half of his arm tickled from the amount of energy piling into the mechanical limb and, suddenly, an explosive charge of electricity extended out from Nero’s palm, vaguely taking the shape of a hand that enveloped the group of demons in a million volts of electricity and light.

            They squealed like gutted pigs, bodies frying from the artificial power, black wings stretched out and quivering.

            Huh, Nico was right; this _does_ pack a punch.

            “Come on, baby!” Nero growled, slamming his hand out against a stray demon. Another explosion of electricity burst out from the prosthetic, blowing back the enemy so that it hit the double-decker bus, leaving a dent on the red metal.

            He raised his arm up, flexing the digits and studying it with appreciation.

            Oh, yeah. He liked this.

            “H-How..?” The soldier mumbled. The dark goggles covering most of his face reflected the devil hunter whom he watched in amazement. White light flashed across as the injured soldier studied how the hunter was practically dancing with the demons, performing feats that no ordinary human should’ve been able to do.

            “Yeah, he’s a real pro at smacking demons around.” Nico crouched beside the man to explain, pointing out the prosthetic her partner wore, “That’s why I built him that well-functionin’ arm.. Heh, to kick demon-ass!”

            She grinned at the soldier who barely glanced her way, too amazed by the way this young man was simply tossing the demons around with his bare hands, leaping through the air and slamming a fist down, hard enough to leave cracks on the road.

            “Wh-What is he?” The soldier managed to say, voice trembling with both wonder and fear. “Who are you people?!”

            Nico reached for the back of her shorts, procuring a white card with cerulean lettering. She considered it for a moment before simply slipping the business card into one of the straps of his vest, carefully minding the bloodstains. “Devil May Cry, at your service!”

            The soldier only gaped at her in confusion while Nero’s battle cries echoed in the background. The air popped and cracked with an energized matter, accompanying the sounds of monsters screeching into the night. Meanwhile, the cars around them continued to spout tongues of flames, licking the warm air.

            “And class,” Nero grunted, ripping through the last demon’s torso with the prosthetic, “is dismissed!”

            Black blood dripped down the blue and silver metal of the Overture and Nero shook it out, not wanting to get the nasty bits stuck in the nooks and crannies of his new arm. As if there was a coat of sealant protecting the surface, the black liquid easily slid off the arm like oil versus water.

            Hm, impressive.

            “I’ll admit, you’ve really outdone yourself, Nico.” He complimented the artisan with a grin of approval. “This baby sure packs a punch.”

            Overture was no Devil Bringer, but Nero could get used to its flashy style. He began to wonder what else the craftswoman had in store for him.

            “Take crew cut to a safe zone.” Nero instructed his partner, following her back to the van with the soldier in tow. Once the soldier was aboard, resting at the little couch built in at the back of the trailer home, Nero turned to face the bridge before them. “I’m gonna go on ahead. There’s too much wreckage to bring the car anyway. If I need you, I’ll give a call.”

            “Hey, tough guy,” Nico called to the hunter from her position by the driver’s wheel. She braced an arm against the window frame, leaning out as Nero glanced back at her. “That’ll keep ‘em, but not for long. Soldier boy said city’s goin’ to Hell and back, taken over by the Underworld..”

            There was a split second pause and Nero noticed the concern and distress in Nico’s dark eyes.

            “Not just here..” She explained, voice laced with caution, “but _everywhere_.”

            Ice blue eyes widened instantly at what that meant and Nero flicked his gaze towards the city’s border where the sun had disappeared. Slowly, he turned around to peer at the tree looming over the rest of the buildings far off in the distance. The red center of the demon tree pulsed like a jewel in the night.

            “I gotta hurry..” Nero mumbled, inwardly groaning at the fact that this was going to be another long night.

            This wasn’t just about his arm anymore.

            If he didn’t hurry and take down this demon tree, then its roots would spread and bring pull the rest of the world into a living hell. Even if he somehow got his arm back from that son of a bitch, it wouldn’t matter if he couldn’t protect the one thing he cherished in this world. And if this tree was going to plunge everyone into Hell, then Nero had another issue to deal with.

            What was the point in having ultimate power at your fingertips if you aren’t able to protect your loved ones?

_Kyrie…._

            “Hope you got an arm for weed whacking, Nico.” The young demon hunter suggested. “Cause I’m gonna knock that asshole right off his throne.”

 

* * *

 

            The sharp throb in her belly caused Kyrie to drop the stack of envelopes she had just retrieved.

            She braced her hand against the mailbox’s decorative brown-shillings that made up its roof. Nero had designed and handcrafted the mailbox for their anniversary, building it so that it resembled a little house with its own emerald door to flap open and close. The single window in the corner allowed her to peek in to check for mail, forgoing the typical red signal flag that marked other average mailboxes. A cute white box had been installed at the base to fit some flowers—peonies for now. The sweet nectar of those fresh, colorful flowers filled Kyrie’s nose as she breathed through the throbbing sensation.

            Glancing down at the fallen papers, she considered how to bend down and retrieve them without her belly getting in the way.

            “Allow me.” A jovial voice interrupted her brainstorming and pale hands grabbed the papers off the sidewalk. The hands offered the envelopes to her. “Here you are.”

            “Oh, thank you, Elijah.” Kyrie smiled appreciatively at her next-door neighbor, meeting his stormy grey eyes crinkling at the corners.

            The young man had moved in next door barely over three months ago, and Kyrie had welcomed him over for dinner so that she and Nero could get acquainted with their new neighbor. She still couldn’t understand why Nero disliked the man’s friendliness. If anything, she appreciated how Elijah constantly offered his help on anything for her whenever Nero was away on business. It reminded her of the sort of good will that Credo used to encourage among the community in Fortuna.

            Do not ask if the person needs help, but offer to help them; those with too much pride fear of admitting their vulnerability and need.

            “Of course.” Elijah smiled at her, running a hand through thick, wavy blonde hair. His eyes fell down to the prominent swell of her belly and the smile disappeared. “You know, Nero really shouldn’t leave you alone when you’re so… pregnant. It’s dangerous.”

            “I’m safe because Nero is out there fighting to keep me safe.” Kyrie explained, caressing her baby bump with the thought of her lover in mind. "To keep _us_ safe."

            “You never know where a monster may be lurking.” Elijah looked at her thoughtfully. “Perhaps I should stay the night with you? Until Nero returns. I can sleep on the couch.”

            “I’ll be fine, Elijah.” Kyrie insisted with a smile. Indeed, the nights had been lonely without the security of Nero’s arms around her in bed. And the house had been empty of Nico’s banter with her husband and she missed chatting with the witty craftswoman. But it wasn’t anything that Kyrie couldn’t handle.

            “I hope so.” He smiled back and then his gaze returned to her belly. “You’re children are going to grow very strong.. Just like their father.”

            “They are.” Kyrie hummed in agreement. Strong indeed, and just as good as well.

            “May I?” He held out a hand, peering up at her for permission.

            Kyrie hesitated. She felt very vulnerable, pregnant like this with Nero not at her side. And it would be the first time someone else touched her baby bump. The act of it was quite intimate, considering it was all about trust and security and the thought of another man touching her there… Then again, wouldn’t it be rude since he had so kindly asked?

            Biting her lip, she slowly nodded.

            The hand neared her belly until another sharp throb had Kyrie sucking a breath and stepping away to cup the baby bump.

            The throb subsided.

            “Sorry... the babies aren’t in the mood, I suppose.” She managed to breathe out.

            “Not a problem!” Elijah immediately backed off, chuckling amicably. “Another time then. I’ll even take you out for some strawberry sundae. My treat.”

_Mmn, strawberry sundae..._

            Yes, perhaps another time, and hopefully Nero would already be back so that he could be the first to touch her belly. Kyrie bid her neighbor a goodnight, shuffling back into the house, one hand holding the bulge of her bump and the other hand grasping the mail of previous clients thanking the hunter for his efforts.

            Upon reaching the doorstep, Kyrie paused and glanced at Elijah’s house on the right, separated by the white picket fence Nero had repainted for her recently. Her neighbor’s windows remained dark and she wondered if he was already preparing for bed since it was already midnight.

            “How did he know Nero was away?” She voiced her thoughts aloud.

            Hm, perhaps since Elijah knew that Nero was into the demon slaying business, he assumed her husband had departed in response to the rise of demon attacks at the city’s heart.

            But then.. How did Elijah know she and Nero were expecting twins?

            A loud flap of wings cut through Kyrie’s thoughts and she jumped at the sudden sound, turning around to catch some sort of animal—a bird?—flying off into the night. It was perhaps the largest bird Kyrie had ever seen and its sapphire blue feathers glinted like a jewel against the streetlights.

            The beautiful shade only reminded her of the snow-white haired demon hunter prowling the city miles away and she clutched the necklace resting on her chest.

_Nero._

 

* * *

 

            The black scabbard of Yamato dragged slowly on the ground as the hooded figure shuffled tirelessly, following the pulsing roots of Qliphoth that covered the floor of the abandoned building he took shelter in.

            Every step the figure took was heavy, weighted with pain and exertion. Hands gripped the ancient katana firmly, however—almost desperately.

            The bright light of the full moon cast a dark shadow under the tattered hood drawn over a pale face disfigured with peeling skin and colored veins. Like a marble statue that had shattered, only to be carelessly glued back together.

            “You shouldn’t be here.”

            The figure paused.

            A chill wind blew through the crumbling building, lifting up the ripped ends of the cloak to reveal tall, brown boots with golden buckles strapping around the top. Three blue coattails peeked out at the back.

            “Your body is still extremely fragile—it isn’t meant to withstand battle. Even with Yamato, you cannot hope to stand against Urizen alone. Not when your soul flickers like a flame, fragile and choking.” The other person paused in thought. “Tell me… what do you desire most?”

            Scabbard scraping across the floor with a low **_kkkrrrr_** , the hooded figure slowly turned around to face the tattooed man leaning on a cane.

            A raspy, broken voice slithered out from the darkness beneath the figure’s hood. “ _More.. power…_ ”

            The last word echoed with a certain intensity reminiscent of who the man once was.

            “Indeed.. Without strength, you cannot protect anything, let alone yourself.”  Ink black tattoos shifted slightly and V smiled. “Then.. you would sooner murder an infant in its cradle than nurse unacted desires?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **HERE IS THE REST OF WHAT HAPPENED WITH JOJO WIFI:**  
>   
> 
> So I went to JoJo Wifi's "about" page on his YT channel to e-mail him regarding the comment I posted on his theory video expressing my concerns about plagiarism and I listed the coincidences I found between our videos. About 19 hours later, he emailed me back only after he finished commenting on a comment/chain posted by someone who had watched my video first and then his and noticed the similarities. In his email, he accused me of directing those people after him to slander his name. I will admit, I showed the videos to my brother so he could give his input and so I could check that I wasn't imagining how similar the videos were. What my brother did afterward is completely of his own agency.
> 
> JoJo Wifi then threatened to block me & others who dared to accuse him of plagiarism. I looked through the comment thread and saw how rude he was being. I saw him saying that I should have contacted him or comment to reach out to him first but that I did not do so. I DID reach out to him (15 minutes after he published the video) but he HID my comment. He can unhide my comment for his own convenience so that it looks like I was lying. Especially since other commentors said they don't believe JoJo Wifi hid my comment because of course those people would know that a hidden comment isn't being hidden when they can't fucking see it in the first place! JoJo Wifi never corrected them and admit that he did hide my comment.
> 
> Someone said that JoJo Wifi's video had better audio quality anyway (like that excuses plagiarism?). A small-time YT creator like me does not have the privilege to afford the quiet time nor the proper equipment to record good quality audio. JoJo Wifi responded by saying that I have no excuse because he simply waits until his house is quiet and he presses his headphones close to himself to record. Well, good for him, but again I don't have any of those privileges let alone a good pair of headphones that I can afford.
> 
> I emailed JoJo Wifi back and said that he is free to block me and anyone else he wants, but that it STILL does not explain why he hid my comment (when I first reached out to him) and why he still never bothered to respond to my comment throughout this whole situation. I have repeatedly brought up the fact that I commented on his video almost immediately after he published the video and he never addressed to me why he hid my comment and/or did not respond to my comment.
> 
> As a creator, it is his responsibility to properly and thoroughly check what he is regulating (as in, actually read the whole comment first before deciding to hide it). I did not just post a link and that's it. I addressed him and the issue first and then provided the link. There is no excuse for him to just hide a comment without bothering to glance at what else the person said. It is not so difficult to see the words typed right beside the link since we have a thing called peripheral vision. For example, if you focus on the word "peripheral" you can still see the other words around it.
> 
> What JoJo Wifi did is very shady and I have personally encountered other "creators" who have stolen from others and those plagiarizers would do the same thing JoJo Wifi did: hide/delete comments expressing concerns about plagiarism.
> 
> In the end, I had no other choice but to block him as he has surely blocked me as well. That said, blocking a user on YT only prevents them from commenting on your videos and nothing else. It is not like blocking on Tumblr or Twitter. Someone said that his channel is full fo clickbait videos. I haven't seen enough videos to know if that is true but I do know that this guy is a huge disappointment, especially since I was starting to like his content. Of course, as consumers, you are free to think whatever you want. If you are a content creator yourself, however, you should know how plagiarism is a huge, prevalent issue among the content creator community and why I am sensitive to this kind of thing. So feel free to have your own opinion on this issue or just ignore it altogether since it does not affect you like it does me.
> 
> Just beware this guy.
> 
> And if you EVER see plagiarised work ANYWHERE, I implore you to NOT be a bystander. Make your voice known, contact both parties if possible. Do what you can to ensure the stolen work is removed and/or that the person received the creator's permission to post it or use their stuff. _**DO NOT BE A BYSTANDER.**_
> 
>  
> 
> **Finally, I'd like to thank again those who read my announcement from the prior chapter, watched the vids, gave me input and/or reached out to me through email/dm. We all lead busy lives and, ultimately, this hardly affects anyone else. So I am incredibly grateful for all the time you spent doing all of that for me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I dedicate this chapter to you guys.**


	8. Happy Halloween!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a special Halloween oneshot that focuses on Kyrie and Nero's first Halloween. This takes place 2 years after DMC 4 and shortly after they move to Red Grave City.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this hastily for Halloween so forgive me for any mistakes or simplicity.

            “Halloween is a festival to celebrate _what_?”

            “The dead.”

            “Why would anyone want to celebrate death?”

            Kyrie bit back a smile as she swiped the paintbrush across the hunter’s face. “I think it’s more of a dedication and remembrance of those who have passed. It used to be called ‘All Hallow’s Eve’ but, over the years, people just started calling it ‘Halloween’ and the name stuck. Hold still now, I’m almost done.”

            Nero stared down at the brush dabbing at his nose, trying not to scratch at the bit of fake silver fur poking out from beneath his tattered red shirt. “So… what does dressing up as fictional characters and walking around for candy have anything to do with celebrating the dead?”

            He hadn't even heard about this holiday until a few weeks ago. Nero had assumed that the sudden orange and spooky themed appearances was just a strange tradition of the city people.

            “Marlene from the grocery store said that trick-or-treating started off from the belief that the dead roamed among the living during this time and they needed treats to be appeased. And then, well, children wanted to join in on the fun and be _appeased_ too. So people dress up now as their favorite characters. Y'know, to pretend to be something else.” Kyrie explained, dipping the brush back into the pot of black paint. “Since we’re too old to go trick-or-treating, I thought we could still dress up and hand out treats for the kids.”

            Said treats were cooling off in the kitchen at this moment. The house was filled with the warm scent of caramel and chocolate and… red velvet? With no sweet tooth, Nero wasn’t much of a fan of candy, but Kyrie’s homemade goodies were irresistible even for him. She had spent most of the day preparing the treats, debating between how much sugar was too much for children while Nero decorated their house with Halloween decorations they had bought over the past few weeks.

            “One more thing!” Kyrie reached for something on the coffee table and placed it atop of the devil hunter’s head. She took a moment to rearrange bits of his cropped silver hair and then she leaned back to survey her work. A bright smile spread on Kyrie's face and she clapped her hands together. “Perfect!”

            Nero took the fake fangs she offered to him and he fit it against his incisors, baring his teeth and testing for a scowl. “Am I scary enough?”

            “Very scary.” Kyrie nodded, although Nero knew she wasn’t the least bit scared of him. “See for yourself.”

            Taking the mirror she held out, Nero studied Kyrie’s past hour of labor. Streaks of white, grey and thin strokes of black were brushed across his entire face to paint the illusion of a werewolf. The tip of his nose had a black triangle as his snout and the skin around his icy eyes was stained like coal.

            He bared his teeth, fixing the plastic fangs into a more comfortable position in his mouth. Kyrie reached over to adjust the headband holding a pair of pricked doggy ears, the silver tufts almost blending in completely with Nero’s natural hair.

            “Will you be a good boy tonight?” Kyrie hummed, brushing a hand through his hair.

            “Woof.” Nero simply responded before taking her hand to press a chaste kiss into her palm, breathing in the lingering scent of her baking.

            “I’m going to go get changed then.” There was an enthusiastic hop to Kyrie’s step as she headed upstairs for their bedroom. On the way out of the living room, she pivoted around to nod over to Nero’s side. “Don’t forget your tail!”

            His tail was bushy with artificial hair, its dark grey color gleaming beside the lamp with a mix of amber highlights. Nero grabbed the metal bit at the end and reached behind himself to clip the false wolf tail onto the back belt loop of his jeans.

            It had only been half a year since they’d moved into their new home at the borders of Red Grave city and this Halloween tradition had caught the couple by surprise, unfamiliar with the more modern customs boasted outside of Fortuna. If not for Kyrie, Nero would’ve just stayed at home doing nothing or go out for some demon-hunting. It had been Kyrie’s idea to participate in the spirit of Halloween and Nero was content to follow along with her desires.

            Ripe pumpkins lined up beside their doorstep and on window sills, hand carved by Nero this morning and lit with candles by Kyrie just recently. False cobwebs clung to their porch railings and Kyrie’s rose bushes as well. Rubber spiders dangled over the edge of their blue-tiled roof, hanging from various heights so that any person not paying attention would brush through them and jump at the creepy sensation.

            Strategy, Nero had learned as he carefully arranged a fake skeleton to sit on a porch chair, was important when decorating a house for Halloween. He had stared at the false pile of bones for a good while before sticking fake glasses onto its face and giving it a book, creating the illusion of a long deceased person reading innocently on the porch. And then a large bat monster was added onto the roof of the ground floor, its position fixed so that it was crawling over the shillings to peer down at any visitor.

            No tombstones though, or any gravemarkers of the sort. Nero knew Kyrie wouldn’t like those filling their vibrant front yard. Not when she had suffered heavy losses herself and was thousands of miles away from where her own family gravestones rested on a certain island.

            Their best Halloween decoration fluttered side to side atop of the lush lawn before their house. A large, white ghost with a goofy, amiable smile on its face. The cool breeze of October made the friendly inflatable sway around, its lit up body held aloft by the generator it sat on. Kyrie had practically fallen in love with the inflatable ghost as soon as her eyes had landed on it, a wide smile spreading across her face as she looked to Nero as if to say: _this is the one!_

            He liked seeing her like this. Amber eyes alight with excitement and cheeks rosy with anticipation. She didn’t say it, but Nero knew she’d been looking forward to this day as soon as their neighbors had explained the tradition to them (only after Kyrie had questioned the hanging skeletons with concern). There were not many holidays that the people of Fortuna celebrated unless it gave the city another excuse to revere Sparda and dedicate another day to him. So a more fun holiday like this one was a great reprieve for the young couple.

            “Hey, Kyrie!” Nero called out as he cleaned up the coffee table, mindful of his claws not leaving any scratches on the worn wood. “What’re we dressing up together as again?”

            “I’m Red Riding Hood.” Kyrie said aloud from their bedroom upstairs. “You’re the wolf from her story.”

            Red Riding Hood? Nero never paid any attention to the childish bedtime stories they told back in the orphanage he grew up in. If any stories were told, they were always tales about Sparda and his great feats.

            He heard footsteps thump lightly down the stairs and he started to ask, “What’s the story of Red… Wh.. Y-You’re..”

            Nero's hard swallow was audible but the woman of his intentions was too occupied with herself to have heard.

            “Does it look weird?” Kyrie was looking down at herself as she asked the devil hunter for his opinion. Delicate hands ran down the front of her dress, tugging here and there to hide more of her exposed skin.

            Nero’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as he gaped at his lover.

            The ivory blouse that made up most of the front could do nothing to hide Kyrie's ample cleavage no matter how desperately she tried to pull it up more. The thin frills bordering the blouse’s low court-style neckline would have provided some illusion of innocence if not for the velvet wine bodice wrapped around her waist. The bodice only accentuated Kyrie's sinful curves and it was laced together at the front by ebony ribbons that begged to be untied.

            It took him a while to notice her golden four-winged pendant had been hidden in her bosom, stuffed down the front of her blouse, but she still wore it for this day nonetheless. He didn't remember a day when she has never worn it.

            “I think the size is a bit too small…” Nero heard his lover speak softly, unsurely.

            No, the size was just right. A larger size would have hung loosely on her and a smaller size would be too tight. Kyrie just filled out every space so perfectly with her voluptuous figure. Not even the preservational clothing of Fortuna had been able to hide a body like that and Kyrie had always struggled to hide her sweet curves despite the conservative clothing she'd wear.

            Pale ice eyes drifted lower, past the ruby swing skirt that only reached just above her knees and Nero swallowed hard at the sight of her shapely legs encased in black fishnet stockings. Her creamy skin was a stark contrast to the net design and Nero found himself itching to run a hand down the length of either leg. To know what it'd be like for warm, creamy flesh, wrapped in netting, to fill his hand.

            “It’s a bit short too.” Kyrie spoke shyly, shifting those elegant legs side to side as she reached down to tug at the skirt, unintentionally flashing even more cleavage with that angle. Nero mentally swore and he fought to stow that low ember lighting in his core. “What do you think?”

            Nero's eyes flicked back and forth, from his lover to the blank television screen beyond, unsure if it was indecent of him to drink in such an image that was unbecoming of Kyrie.

            “Uh… ah….” His brain was practically scrambled at the sight of her, yet Nero was unable to cook up anything good. He could only stare as he fumbled for a compliment. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard again. Positive. Think of something positive! “You—you look… good.”

            ‘Good’ was a severe understatement. Kyrie looked good in anything, but this? A more promiscuous word came to mind as he continued to drink in the sight of his girlfriend.

 _Sexy_.

            That was the word that sat at the tip of Nero's tongue and banged in his mind like a drum. She was smoking sexy in that sort of get-up, and Nero would never dare to voice that sort of compliment aloud. It was not for the ears of any other person and certainly not for someone as pure as the woman herself.

            Kyrie had always been more than easy on the eyes but, wearing these sort of clothes…. The conservative culture of Fortuna had never afforded Nero much flash of the leg or bosom. Even a woman showing her bare ankles was considered quite daring. After moving into Red Grave, Kyrie had stuck to her dresses with modest necklines and covering most of her arms and always reaching just past her knees. So, to see his lover wearing something more revealing—practically tantalizing—left him speechless.

            Kyrie's body was nothing new to the young devil hunter, having familiarized himself with every inch of her bare flesh many a night or day this past year. Still, it was a bit surreal to witness his earnest lover adorn something meant to be enticing and teasing.

            If Kyrie had any idea of just how tempting she looked right now, she didn't show it. She wielded her sex appeal like it was second nature, unaware of what sort of things she could make men—make Nero—do for her with a simple whisper of that melodic voice and a pout of those full lips. The songstress's pure innocence was nothing but an accessory that further enhanced her overall beauty.

            “It’s the stockings, isn’t it?” Kyrie sighed, scrutinizing her legs as if they were the problem even though that was far from it.

            “Y-Yeah,” Nero cleared his throat, fighting the urge to wrap the beautiful woman in a blanket. Scratching his nose, he tried to ignore the bit of tightening in his pants. “It, uh... It doesn’t match that black rose embroidery around the bottom of your skirt.”

            “I have another pair of stockings I can wear instead. You think white is okay?”

            “White’s good.” He said a bit too quietly in a strained voice, watching from the corner of his eye as Kyrie placed a foot on the cushion beside him, knee bent as she reached beneath her skirt to peel off the fishnet stocking. He always loved her legs. And he liked seeing her in white.

            Especially in white dresses.

            “I’ll just run upstairs real quick.” Kyrie glanced at the television before them. “Why don’t you pop in that horror movie we’ve been planning to watch? It’s... _Van Helsing_ , I think it was called.”

            “Got it.” Nero was more than happy to focus his attention on something less appealing than his lover.

            Old habits died hard, and Nero was too used to being courteous—albeit aloof—with humans, having been taught not to be a lecher ogling any woman. He’d felt like a lecher just now, and Nero was both mildly frustrated and confused. Confused because Kyrie was his girlfriend and they’d been together for over a year now—and known each other for almost their whole lives. But he was also frustrated with how the teachings of Fortuna still haunted him, making it difficult to enjoy his lover and know when he was toeing the line between what was okay and what was not okay.

            Was it still rude to stare when Kyrie was his girlfriend? Was it bad to ogle his lover? He found himself still wondering that every once in a while as they continued to explore the waters together as a young couple in love. After all, it was just them against the world.

            The previews were still playing and Nero was simply staring at the cutscenes when he sensed his lover return to him once more. He looked over and felt his jeans tightening slightly again at the sight of sheer white encasing graceful legs. Kyrie’s old pair of her Order stockings had practically done nothing to tone down the sex appeal.

            “Is this better?” She shifted restlessly on low ruby pumps—practical shoes that had just an inch and a half of heel height.

            “Yeah.” Nero’s voice accidentally came out raspy again and he subtly cleared it, standing up to release some tension. “It’s almost time. You think the treats are ready?”

            “Oh!” Kyrie’s steps had a happy bounce as she took the devil hunter’s clawed hand and led him to the kitchen which was stuffy with the delectable scent of baked goods just waiting to fill eager bellies. “I need your help with them. You think you’re up for the task?”

            “And what’s my mission?” Smirking, Nero leaned against the large island counter where trays of goodies were amassed. He eyed the assortment of treats, practically tasting everything his sharp sense of smell could pick up.

            “Your mission, should you choose to accept it,” Kyrie began pulling out a bright orange sheet of plastic wrapping, “is to wrap each individual treat in a goodie bag while I tie them up.”

            “Sounds like a daunting task.” The hunter assessed the duty that awaited them, quickly determining how best to wrap each kind of treat. He glanced to Kyrie, tipping a brow. “Surely this wolf gets his own treat out of this?”

            “Of course,” Kyrie gave him a peck on the lips before handing him the roll of orange wrapping. She ran a hand through his hair again, careful of the doggy ears standing firmly upon his head. When she spoke, there was laughter lining her soft voice. “Good, handsome boys deserve only the best.”

            He might have growled earnestly at that, hoping Kyrie wasn’t just teasing him with the prospect of a simple head rub.

            The thick tail thumped against Nero’s backside as he moved in preparation. Every tray held a certain kind of treat, each with its own distinctive scent of mouthwatering sugary bliss. Four types of candied apples sat at his left: simple caramel, caramel with nuts, dark chocolate, and chocolate with nuts. Beside it was a welcoming tray overflowing with soft madeleines shaded in three colors: orange, white, and then yellow. Continuing on, golden brown cookies wept chocolate tears like sad ghouls. Finally, on the right lay several trays of cupcakes of assorted flavors, including the red velvet Nero had smelled earlier. Each cupcake had either an oreo or chocolate ball at the center with frosting decorated by hand to draw on spider legs stretching from the center treat.

            “I think I baked too much.” Kyrie helped Nero cut out appropriate sheet sizes of the wrapping. “And we only moved in a couple months ago. Maybe people won’t know to come to our house.”

            Sensing the bit of concern, Nero gave her a smile of assurance. “With how wicked cool our house looks compared to the neighbors, I’m pretty sure we’ll be the most popular house on the block. I just hope we don’t get—what do they call it?—tricked.”

            If any bratty kid dared to do that and ruin Kyrie’s fun, Nero was more than ready than to just give them a mean snarl.

            “With how you make such a terrifying werewolf,” Kyrie smiled lightly at him, “I wouldn’t worry about them.”

            “Oh yeah, what’s the story of Red Riding Hood?” Nero carefully wrapped the candied apples, holding them by the wooden stick with his clawed hand. Only his human hand was capable of holding the wrapping without tearing it to shreds. “Never heard of that tale.”

            “Ghislaine, the flower vendor at the market, said it's an old fairytale sometimes told to discourage children from befriending strangers. This is how the story goes…” Kyrie began, her voice lilting and soulful as she wove the story based off her account of hearing it just last week, words uttered so poetically that even Nero found himself invested in this child’s tale. “Once upon a time, there was a girl who was adored by many from her village, but most especially by her dear grandmother. So the grandmother weaved a ruby red cloak for the girl who loved it so much that she wore it everywhere. Thus, the people named her ‘Little Red Riding Hood’.

            “One day, Red Riding Hood’s mother gave her a basket of food and instructed the girl to bring it to her sickly grandmother deep in the woods. Her mother warned her not to wander off the path nor speak to any strangers; just go straight to your grandmother’s house—don’t dawdle—and remember to say ‘good morning’ when you enter her room.

            “And so Red Riding Hood spirited away on her journey into the woods, whereupon she soon met a wolf. He towered over the girl, silver hair rising at his back as he sniffed her and the basket of goods she carried. Moon slitted eyes twinkled at her and his fangs gleamed as he said, ‘Good morning, Red Riding Hood’, to which she politely responded, ‘Thank you kindly, wolf’. And the wolf was impressed of this girl for he scented no fear off her. She was not afraid of him and did not realize the wickedness that beat in his heart.”

            Nero silently listened to the story, although his brows had risen at the idea of such an innocent girl practically presenting herself as prey to the beast. _So much for listening to her mother’s warnings…_

            “The wolf asked where Red Riding Hood was going, and she answered ‘to my grandmother’s house’ without so much of a thought.” Kyrie continued, accepting the next bag to tie with twine. “He asked what she carried in the basket and she told him it was food for her ailing grandmother. The wolf then asked where this grandmother lived and Red Riding Hood answered him truthfully again. And the wolf thought to himself ‘ah, what a tender creature! She will be very delicious to eat, more so than the old woman. I must have this girl!’ And so the wolf planned with wicked cunning, pointing out a fresh bed of winterbell flowers for the girl to wonder at. Red Riding Hood, as innocent as she was, thought to gather these pretty flowers for her dear grandmother, and so she chased stem after stem as time passed with her dilly-dallying.”

            Nero could begin to see where this was going now.

            “Meanwhile, the wolf went ahead to the grandmother’s house and fooled her into believing he was her granddaughter. And then he ate her!” Resignation passed in Kyrie’s face even though she had already heard this story once before. “He ate the grandmother, took her clothes, laid in her bed where he waited for Red Riding Hood to arrive so that he may devour her as well. And when she finally arrived, Red Riding Hood said—”

**_DING DONG!_ **

            Kyrie blinked before her face lit up, eyes brimming with excitement. “Trick-or-treaters!”

            And not a moment too soon, Nero thought as he surveyed the progress they’d made together. Only half a tray of cupcakes still awaited to be packaged, but the rest had been finished with diligence.

            His lover pivoted on her heels, grabbing the wicker basket filled to the brim with treats, red cloak swishing behind her.

            “Kyrie,” Nero stopped her and she looked at him expectantly.

            He drew the ruby hood over her copper head, fixing her loose hair for a second. Then the hunter’s hands fell to Kyrie’s slim shoulders, pulling the red cape closer around the front of her body in an attempt to hide her voluminous body and generous cleavage. It didn’t do much to tone down the sex appeal she unknowingly exuded, but it was the best he could do.

            Under her inquisitive gaze, Nero awkwardly answered, “It’s, ah… it’s chilly tonight. Wouldn’t want you to get cold.”

            Kyrie flashed him an appreciative smile that told him she had no idea he was trying to cover her from unwelcome, leering eyes. Leaning up, she gave him another chaste kiss before grabbing his hand and tugging him to the door.

            The low sound of kids giggling on the other side went unnoticed by the couple and Kyrie held a finger to her mouth, turning off the lights of the hallway and drenching both her and Nero in darkness.

            “One,” Kyrie mouthed to him, hand gripping the door handle, “two..”

            Nero crouched into position, raising his demon arm by his face, claws curled as if to snatch any poor soul before him. The faint blue of his Devil Bringer was their only source of light, adding to the atmosphere. Tongue pushing his fake fangs securely into place, Nero tensed on his haunches.

            “Three!” Kyrie threw the door open.

            Nero let out a threatening “ _RAAAWR!_ ”, springing up at the group of children, face twisted into a snarl and fangs bared, the black claws of his arm brandished as if to grab one of the little humans.

            Screams erupted and children stumbled back, some falling on their butts and others running back down the porch steps, already racing to their parents waiting on the sidewalk. Nero struggled to swallow down a bout of laughter at their reactions, even as one kid, dressed as some kind of plumber with a handlebar mustache, scrunched up his face and started to sniff with tears.

            “Oh, wait!” Kyrie emerged from her hiding corner to appear at the doorway, raising the basket of goodies and calling out to the scampering children. “Don’t you want your treats?”

            Perhaps the heavenly scent of Kyrie’s baked goods had wafted out and reached the hungry children, or perhaps they’d paused at the sound of the maiden’s sweet voice luring them back to the house. Either way, the kids paused and the parents watched, amused, as little ghosts and witches alike came traipsing back to the porch.

            Nero was the one who held the weighty basket, bending slightly to allow the little monsters to peruse their selection. Beady eyes regarded him warily while grubby hands snatched at the goody bags offered. One kid, dressed as the devil, stared at Nero, his gaze unwavering as he sucked on a cherry red lollipop. Nero gave him a lopsided grin, lips peeling aside to reveal a fake fang. The boy continued staring while Kyrie spoke to the children in a hushed voice, complimenting their outfits and shaking their chubby hands in greeting.

            Nero raised his Devil Bringer and waved mildly to the boy, scaly fingers curling in slightly to emphasize the wicked sharp claws that no effort of makeup could ever replicate.

            The boy's eyes widened at the sight of the demon arm, getting a good look at what he didn’t know was actually the real deal.

            “See?” Kyrie gestured to Nero as the children continued wiping frightful tears from their cheeks. “He’s not so scary.”

            “He’s the big bad wolf!” A little girl clutching the velvet folds of her witch cloak pointed accusingly at Nero. Her tiny voice squeaked out but her green eyes were laced with bravery. “He’s gonna eat you, Wed Widing Hood!”

            “Oh, no, he’s very friendly, just like any other doggy.” Kyrie explained, glancing at Nero who continued to put up his facade of a menacing werewolf skulking at them over her shoulder. “He likes kisses and hugs just like any other pup. Look...”

            A warm, delicate hand grasped the edge of Nero’s jaw and he gravitated towards Kyrie as she leaned up to kiss him tenderly on the cheek, careful of the paint. The kids giggled at the smooch. Warmth flooded his face despite Nero still holding that menacing expression and the hunter turned to kiss his lover’s cheek as well, quick but lingering.

            “Oh!” Kyrie was smiling. “See? He likes to give kisses too.”

            “Woof.” Nero said plainly, eyeing the one older boy still munching on his lollipop and staring at Kyrie as if he had found his one true love.

            “Is that why you two have matching collars?” The littlest child asked loudly, speaking through baby teeth and pointing at Nero’s neck where a two-winged pendant hung, glinting through the fake fur.

            The hunter peered down at his lover’s gift before looking sidelong at where his own gift lay among the swell of her bosom. Nero tipped a brow at Kyrie whose face was flushed, almost matching the red of her outfit.

            “U-Um, yes.” She said, unable to answer that innocent-but-not-so-innocent question in any other way.

            One of the parents must have gotten tired of waiting because they called for the kids to go. Without any more comments to make, the children left together as a group, satisfied with their bounty from this house.

            The youngest child from earlier stayed back a second to tug on Kyrie’s skirt. Nero watched as Kyrie leaned down for the little girl to speak and he heard the child say, “I think the wolf likes you.”

            Kyrie laughed quietly and then whispered, shooting a look to her lover, “I like him too.”

            The little witchling followed Kyrie’s gaze and Nero, cracking a small smile absent of fangs, winked at her. She giggled shyly before running away, hefting along her pumpkin basket heavy with sweets. The children were already running off to their next house of the night with their parents ambling a few paces behind them.

            “You got them.” Kyrie’s eyes were alight with victory and mirth once she closed the door to face him. The smile on her face was tilted up as if she was on the verge of breaking out into the giggles she'd been holding back. “You frightened them really good!”

            “Maybe a little _too_ good.” Nero set the basket on the little table of the hallway. He turned and grabbed the swell of Kyrie’s hips, tugging her warm body against his. “Collars?”

            “She was just thinking we were the characters from the story.” Kyrie explained, reaching up to adjust his doggy ears, her ruby hood falling back in the process. “Her imagination still runs true and wild at her age.”

            “Well, I suppose she’s not wrong.” Nero murmured, raising Kyrie’s hood back up before dipping his face down towards her’s.

            “Nero,” A slim finger met his lips instead, “you said you were going to be a good boy.”

            “Aren’t I?” He leaned into her neck, breathing in Kyrie’s sweet scent of warm cinnamon beneath the different sugary smells still lingering on her body and hands. The hunter had been good and obeying all day. “You owe me a treat.”

            “I'll give you one after this is over.” Kyrie kissed him too briefly for Nero to really enjoy it. Not nearly enough to quell his appetite.

            “That one doesn’t count.”

            “This wolf is so eager for his doggy treat.” Kyrie tsked, though her mouth tilted at the corners. “Let’s watch the movie! I preheated some popcorn earlier for us.”

            Defeated, Nero followed after the heels of his lover as she retreated into the living room. Just two years ago, an elderly jeweler had called Nero a man head over heels in love. _I guess a ‘lovesick puppy’ would be more accurate to say_ , Nero thought to himself, passing through the kitchen to retrieve the bowl of popcorn. It was classic butter-flavored popcorn; the only flavor Nero liked and Kyrie had been considerate to pick it.

            They had just reached the part of the angry mob storming Dr. Frankenstein’s castle when the doorbell rang again. Kyrie paused the film and they took their positions by the door to scare their new guests like before. This time, it was a pair of siblings dressed up as a prince and princess. As always, Kyrie complimented their appearances while letting them pick out their goods.

            “Thank you!” The little princess curtsied in thanks for the treats, golden ringlets bouncing on her shoulders.

            “You’re very welcome, Your Highness.” Kyrie curtsied in return.

            Nero caught the older brother staring at his arm and he crouched down, offering out his Devil Bringer to him. “You wanna see?”

            The young prince’s eyes went wide with amazement, mouthing ‘wow’ as he studied the dark red and black scales of the arm. “How did you… what are you?”

            “I’m a werewolf.” Nero simply answered, standing back up to ruffle the boy’s blond hair. “Woof-woof.”

            “But why do you only have one arm like that?” The boy indicated to Nero’s human hand.

            “Uh…” Nero rubbed the back of his head as he fumbled for an excuse. He hadn’t bothered to paint his human arm and the contrast was painfully stark.

            Besides, not many people had the courage to ask the devil hunter about his otherworldly appendage. Those in Fortuna had gawked or—and Nero had found it discomforting—even bowed their heads in reverence to the young man blessed with wicked might. Upon moving into the city, however, Red Grave citizens had barely given Nero’s claws a passing glance or, at most, a frown followed by a nonchalant shrug. As if they could hardly care that a man was walking around with a demon arm.

            It was Kyrie who answered the boy, which was not surprising since she had a way with children.

            “He was in the middle of changing from man into beast when…” Kyrie paused, “when… a powerful magic spell trapped him in this form.”

            The brother looked very disbelieving of the excuse but his little sister was a different story.

            “It’s love!” The little princess bounced on her feet. “Love is the most powerful magic ever!”

            “And, you see, now I’m just a housebroken dog.” Nero crossed his arms, smirking at the brother who had made a face of disgust at the mention of love.

            “Don’t worry,” Kyrie met the girl’s giddy smile, “I make sure to give him lots of hugs and kisses.”

            “Kisses! Kisses are my favorite.” The girl replied, reaching into her pumpkin bucket to procure a piece of candy. She dropped it into Kyrie’s hand who curtsied again in appreciation. “I’ll give you one too!”

            “You are most gracious, Your Highness.” Kyrie said, holding the little chocolate piece close to her bosom.

            Beyond the pair of little royals, Nero caught sight of a trio heading their way. Kyrie bid the children a good night before greeting their next group of trick-or-treaters.

            “My,” His Red Riding Hood gasped, raising a hand to her chest, “what a handsome devil you have!”

            Nero gave his lover a pointed look before returning his gaze to the chubby baby squirming in the woman’s arms. Its plump cheeks were stained a bright scarlet to match the red costume it wore as well as the pair of horns adorning its wispy head.

            “How old is he?” Kyrie asked as Nero handed out a candied apple to the one other child dressed as an angel.

            “Seventeen weeks.” The young mother answered with a strained smile as she struggled to hold her child still. “This little devil is a bit of a big boy.”

            The baby continued to fidget, its blue eyes blinking at him before looking elsewhere as if bored. Nero could already see the signs and he counted down in his mind. One… two… As if on cue, the baby let out a wailing cry that had his older sibling wincing. The infantile cries seemed to echo across the street and into the night, loud and piercing.

            “I’m sorry, I just... My daughter really wanted to go trick-or-treating and the father isn’t… I’m so sorry.” The mother seemed embarrassed now, and she began to turn around to lead her children away before they could make a fuss in public.

            “Oh, please,” Kyrie reached out to the single mom, “allow me.”

            The woman stared at Kyrie for only one second, taking in the kind expression on the songstress before handing over the child. “He’s fussier than his sister was at his age.”

            The daughter rolled her eyes but kept herself busy with the candied apple.

            Nero watched as Kyrie cradled the little devil in her arms with practiced ease as if she had done this kind of thing her entire life. The baby continued to fret and squirm but his wailing stopped as Kyrie bounced him lightly while humming.

            Even when not singing, any sound that came from Kyrie was always melodic somehow.

            “He’s hungry.” Kyrie eventually said once the babe had quietened from the lullaby she had hummed.

            The woman blinked. “How do you know that?”

            “Babies have various cries that mean different things.” Kyrie answered, passing the appeased babe back to his mother. “He should be okay for now, but he’ll start up again soon if he doesn’t get some food in his belly.”

            “Thank you.” The mother said breathlessly, clearly taken aback by the songstress’s wisdom. “I must admit, I didn’t think you two were parents since you’re a bit young, but it seems you know how to handle your children very well if—”

            The woman stopped, catching the awkward way the couple had reacted to her words.

            “Uh, we don’t have… children.” Nero spoke this time, knowing Kyrie needed time to recover from the intense heat reddening her cheeks. He nodded to his lover. “Kyrie spends a lot of time at orphanages so she knows how to deal with kids and babes.”

            “Oh! Well, that’s all right,” The woman laughed and Kyrie chuckled politely despite her blushing face. “When you two do come to have your own children, I can tell parenthood will come easily to you both. And that’s not an easy thing to say… Halloween is a dangerous day, though. I doubt any parent can easily control their child—not when sweets and costumes are a must.”

            “We’ll take that in mind.” Kyrie squeaked out, and Nero found his own face heating up as well. “F-For when we.. um, have kids.”

            The woman nodded and took the baby’s chubby hand to wave goodbye at the couple, her daughter toddling along, still busy with the candy apple.

            Upon closing the door, Kyrie leaned back against it and let out a sigh, hand pressed to her chest.

            “Handsome little devil?” Nero simply said as they returned to their couch to continue the movie. He was unwilling to comment about the idea of them having their own children someday.

            Kyrie paused to consider the hunter’s words, and then she slipped a smile that almost seemed to be… smug. “You’re a werewolf, just for tonight, Nero.”

            He wasn’t jealous of a pudgy baby, but Kyrie’s choice of words did intrigue him. As the movie played out, Nero rubbed his chin, wondering if Kyrie did consider him handsome. He knew he wasn’t plain-looking (not with his icy eyes and snow-white hair), but… was he cute? A part of him wanted to ask how Kyrie really saw him.

            Instead, he focused on the movie, sliding a piece of warm popcorn into his mouth.

            “Why do you think he wants to create this monster?” Kyrie eventually asked, sitting sideways with her legs stretched across Nero’s lap.

            “Dunno.” Nero answered, rubbing her knee absentmindedly as the movie played. “Probably wants to be like a god.”

            “Why do you say that?” Kyrie said after a moment.

            “Well, if he can do something that no regular human can do—like resurrect the dead—then people will look at you as an otherworldly being… Like a god.”

            As Nero answered her question, he found himself thinking back to Sanctus, remembering that the crazed worshipper had sought to become such a thing, claiming it was for humanity’s sake.

            “How sad,” Kyrie said when the people began attacking the mill that the Frankenstein’s monster had retreated to, “he didn’t even do anything wrong. Yet, they would attack him out of fear…”

            “It’s because he’s a monster.” Nero replied.

            “Not all monsters are evil.” Kyrie smiled at him. “At least, not at heart.”

            Nero smiled himself when he felt slim fingers entwine with the claws of his Devil Bringer.

            The film lasted slightly longer than needed since they had to pause it every once in a while to answer the trick-or-treaters knocking at the door. Each visit was full of screams with a giggle or two in response to Nero’s scare tactics. The younger children were easier to frighten, while the teens only jumped in surprise. It brought him the most joy whenever he was able to frighten the older kids, only for them to act as if they hadn’t screamed at the sight of Nero brandishing his claws menacingly. Every time, Kyrie always had to fight back her giggles while Nero had no qualms about laughing at the responses he evoked.

            “I think Halloween is my new favorite holiday,” Nero added once they returned to the heroine waking up after Van Helsing had drugged her.

            Kyrie merely whimpered and Nero glanced at his lover, eyes wide at the television. The music began to build up, lightning flashing across as Anna slowly walked through the empty hallway. A shadow passed behind the heroine and Kyrie grabbed Nero’s arm, soft fingers gripping the corded muscle.

            “Are you scared?” Nero asked.

            “A… A little.” Kyrie pressed her face against the bulk of his shoulder. She let out a small shriek upon the large wolf suddenly leaping at Anna from the shadows.

            Nero held his lover closer, letting her grip him as tightly as she wanted to appease her fears. He thought of stopping the movie, but he knew Kyrie was also enjoying herself despite the scares.

            The doorbell rang again and Kyrie leaped to her feet with just as much eagerness as all the other times, though Nero suspected she was beginning to tire.

            “RAAAWR!” He roared vigorously once the door opened.

            “Oh shit!” The zombie teenager fell onto his butt, eliciting loud snickers from his other friends. “Damn, dude, what the hell are you?!”

            “Woof.” Nero said calmly as opposed to the vicious snarl he had just given them in greeting.

            “Wicked cool prosthetic!” One tall, lanky ghost dared to compliment. It almost amused the part-demon, part-human hunter to see how these people never stopped to consider the realism of his demon arm.

            “Happy Halloween!” All eyes zeroed in on Kyrie as soon as she appeared in the frame.

            The boys gazed at Kyrie with looks of appreciation and wolfish grins that had Nero clenching his jaw in irritation, knowing exactly what those teens were thinking.

            ‘Sexy mama!’ One ghoul mouthed to his other friend at the back.

            “You, uh... You must be new.” The skull-faced leader spoke, though his eyes remained only on Kyrie. “I mean, I’ve never seen you around before.”

            “City’s big.” Nero cut in, wrapping a claw around Kyrie’s waist. “Lots of people.”

            “I could show you around if you’d like.” The skeleton guy grinned at Kyrie and the lust in his eyes did not go unnoticed by Nero.

            “Thank you, but there’s no need.” Kyrie politely declined. “I like to take it day by day.”

            “You sure? I—” The young man began but faltered when he noticed Nero.

            The red in Nero’s eyes burned as he stood by Kyrie, his demon hand tightening around Kyrie’s hips before tugging her closer to himself. Something low and animalistic rumbled out of the hunter and it was enough for the teens to back several steps away.

            They were already scampering down the steps before Kyrie could look and see Nero’s burning red eyes.

            “They just... left.” She blinked, unaware of what had just transpired. Her arm was still raised up with the basket of treats.

            “Probably in a hurry for more candy.” Nero casually explained, tugging Kyrie’s cape close again to cover her as much as possible. “C’mon, I wanna see what happens to Anna’s brother.”

            Several scenes later, Anna’s brother was being used to power Dracula’s castle and give life to his children. The sight of the slimy eggs had Nero putting down the bowl of popcorn. “They say children are the best thing that could happen to you, but Dracula… his children are _hideous_.”

            “I almost feel sorry for him.” Kyrie mused aloud. “If only he wasn’t trying to use his babies as an army to rule the humans…. Oh, I hope Anna saves her brother.”

            A few scenes after, Kyrie was back to pressing her face against Nero’s shoulder as she quietly mourned the demise of the heroine’s cursed brother. Nero could only hold her, knowing the scene had drawn up bad memories of Credo and his murder. Yet, Kyrie remained silent, hand tightly gripping his claws and not a tear to be seen even as she finally returned to watching the movie.

            Eventually, the scene where Dracula was seducing the heroine during the dance had both Nero and Kyrie blushing from the sensuality. The both of them remained silent as Dracula slid his finger up Anna’s breasts and towards her throat to turn her. Nero wasn’t sure if he should look away or not. As soon as Van Helsing swung in to rescue Anna, Kyrie breathed a sigh of relief.

            The popcorn bowl was nearly empty by the time the film ended around midnight. Nero was still in shock of the ending; he hadn’t expected for the heroine to die at the hands of her own lover now cursed the same way her brother was.

            “But she still forgave him in the end.” Kyrie said gently once she noticed Nero staring blankly at the screen with the credits rolling on. “Even in death, she still loved him.”

            “Interesting how he became a beast at the end of it all.” Nero noted, pondering the duality of man and monster. He paused, turning to peer out the window where it was already dark outside with the street lamps lit. The sound of children had died down at some point, leaving the roads empty. “Guess trick-or-treating is over.”

            “I think that’s for the best.” Kyrie followed his gaze. “The basket is completely empty now. There wouldn’t be any treats to give if someone visited.”

            “If anyone dares for a trick…” He began, raising his Devil Bringer in gesture. “I’ll give ‘em something good to eat..”

            Kyrie smiled wryly at him. “Nero… you said you’d be a good boy tonight.”

            “Haven’t I?” He grinned wolfishly at his lover, rubbing her knee with the pad of his thumb. “I scared those kids really good.”

            “Very good.” Kyrie was still smiling, fingers rubbing the hard scales of his Devil Bringer.

            Nero kissed her knuckles in return. “You said you got a treat for me?”

            “Mm, you must be hungry.” Kyrie commented, pecking him appeasingly on the mouth.

            She made to remove her legs from his lap and leave the couch but Nero kept his arm locked around Kyrie. He leaned in for another kiss and he could feel her smiling against his mouth as she struggled to speak through the kisses, “Nero— _mmn!_ —I can’t—don’t you want— _mmph!_ —your pumpkin pie…”

            “You taste sweet…” Nero couldn’t help but mention. A sweet cherry flavor lingered on the seam of his lips and he licked it away.

            “I…” Kyrie’s cheeks were rosy. “I ate candy…”

            Well, that explained it, although he didn’t know at what point did she eat any sweets. He wasn’t a fan of candy, per say, but Kyrie could convince him otherwise. Nero grinned before diving in for another kiss, holding Kyrie’s legs as he adjusted his body on the couch. He braced his arms on either side of her head as she slid down the armrest to lie across the length of the sofa.

            “Don’t you want your treat?” Kyrie asked breathlessly once Nero leaned back. “I thought you’re hungry.”

            “I am hungry, and I am having my treat.” Nero smirked, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and peeling it off. He swept off the fake silver hair tickling his bare torso, shivering upon Kyrie brushing her fingers deftly across his taut stomach to help clean him off the fur.

            He was being truthful. While the offer of Kyrie’s special, homemade pumpkin pie was very tempting, no treat could ever compare to Kyrie’s kisses. And Nero couldn’t help but growl in appreciation when his lips returned to claim hers once again. There was no protesting when Nero dared to grab a slender leg, claws grazing the sheer white stockings of her leg, up and up and up. Kyrie sighed when his claw neared the apex of her hips, but he withdrew his hand before anything could happen.

            “Nero.” She whispered, drawing out the last syllable for a bit longer, and he didn’t know if she was admonishing him for stopping or what, but it made his pants tighten.

            “Sorry, Kyrie,” Nero mumbled, the sound of a belt unbuckling accompanied his insincere words, “I can’t be a good boy any longer.”

            He was almost embarrassed to feel so needy like this. Almost like an animal in heat. But Kyrie looked just as tasty as she smelled right now and Nero, try as he might, couldn’t deny how he felt. A gentle kiss against the slope of his jaw, however, calmed him down almost instantly.

            “Okay.” Kyrie simply said, amber eyes half-lidded and face flustered.

            Nero almost let out a sigh of relief, knowing his lover wanted this as much as he did. At the cusp of twenty, Nero no longer wanted to be the pubescent boy so easily controlled by his emotions. Yet, when it came to Kyrie…

            She kissed him again, light and fleeting, leading him to follow her and close the gap between their mouths, sealing her lips with his.

            “Kyrie.” Nero breathed, brushing his nose down her bare neck and inhaling the scent of cinnamon and something distinctly her.

            Suddenly, she giggled, and Nero peeled back to see what was so funny.

            “For a wolf,” She ran a hand through his hair, adjusting the pair of stiff doggy ears he still wore, “you sure like your kisses.”

            Grinning, Nero responded with a playful growl before nipping the soft flesh of her throat, eliciting a sharp gasp from his lover. “Woof.” He added as an afterthought, pressing his lips gently to where he had nipped Kyrie.

            “Nero…” Kyrie sighed out when he lingered on her neck too long. She grabbed his hand and slid it up the length of her stomach before letting his palm rest atop her breast. “Touch me, Nero…”

            He shuddered at the sound of his name leaving Kyrie’s lips so softly like a summer breeze. Slowly, Nero hooked a finger onto the neckline of her blouse, peeling the thin cotton down to reveal a generous mound that filled his palm so perfectly. Kyrie’s breath fluttered out and she arched her back, pressing herself further into his grip.

            “Nero, please…” She breathed again, encouraging him to kiss his way down her smooth jaw, down the pearly column of her neck, and kiss the rosy bud before taking the tip of her breast into his mouth.

            Hands wandered across Nero’s bare back, his muscles rippling under her touch. Suddenly, Kyrie went still, and then she let out a trill of lyrical laughter. “My, what sharp teeth you have, dear wolf.”

            Nero paused, and then he began chuckling as well once he realized he was still wearing his fake fangs. He tugged them off his incisors, grinning down at his lover in answer, “The better to eat you.”

            “Hmm…” Kyrie hummed lightly as she craned her face up to give another kiss. “So… am I your treat, wolf?”

            “If you want.” Nero mumbled to the Red Riding Hood smiling beneath him, scanning her face for any signs of discomfort or hesitation. He saw nothing but love and want and even happiness.

            Kyrie silently answered by reaching for her bodice, delicate fingers quickly untying the ebony ribbons holding the bodice together. Nero swallowed as he watched her work, helping her slip the velvet bodice off her curves and discarding it onto the coffee table.

            “How does the story end again?” Nero asked, voice husky as Kyrie tugged her red cape off, letting it pool onto the floor in a quiet whisper.

            “Hm?” Kyrie went on to adjust her position beneath Nero, legs clad in white stocking moving around to let him nestle in between.

            “The story of Red Riding Hood.” He murmured, tucking a copper tress behind her ear. “You never finished… Does the wolf eat her?”

            “Yes…” Kyrie’s sweet voice trembled as Nero kneaded the creamy flesh of her breast, mouth bearing hot on her other breast. “He eats her— _mmn!_ —yes!”

            “I knew it.” Nero peeled her blouse down further to kiss a smooth shoulder.

            “You did?” Kyrie’s breath hitched when his hand reached beneath her ruby skirt. “H-How?”

            “Well, of course he would eat her.” Nero smiled against the skin of Kyrie’s shoulder, finger tracing her crevice through the thin cotton of her panties. Kyrie’s entire body seemed to be trembling with anticipation and need. The warmth of her wetness was quickly seeping through, enough to leave a sticky residue on his fingertip. “She’s too irresistible…”

            “N-Nero…”

            His name was spoken with wantonness and love and the hunter responded by slipping her panties down slender legs, Kyrie all too willing to help with the removal.

            Silky white. Nero briefly wondered if it was a conscious choice made to match her stockings. And Nero nearly chuckled aloud at the thought. Well, he wasn’t complaining; Kyrie looked beautiful in white. And maybe a shade of red to match the blush blooming on her cheeks. He tossed her panties onto the coffee table where it accidentally landed in the popcorn bowl, but neither of them bothered to do anything about it.

            She kissed him again, knees pressing against his sides to hold him between her legs. The feel of her stockings rubbing so gently on his bare muscles left Nero feeling even more aroused and he grabbed a shapely leg to hitch it around his hip.

            He felt a tug around his pelvis and glanced down to find Kyrie fumbling with the button of his jeans. With a low chuckle, Nero pressed a kiss to her cheek before helping unbutton his pants and then..

**_Zzzzzzt!_ **

            He saw Kyrie wet her plush lips as he drew out his erection, groaning at finally being able to release. Leaning down again, Nero peppered small kisses over Kyrie’s heart as he reached beneath the couch, blindly searching for the item in need. The gold foil wrapper crinkled loudly in his hand before Nero ripped it open with his teeth. However, he passed the contents over to Kyrie instead and the both of them blushed even harder when she reached for him.

            The feel of warm hands gingerly touching his swollen cock had Nero swallowing back a growl of appreciation. Graceful fingertips traced the bulging veins of his erection, Kyrie feeling how thick and hard he was for her. The muscles of his ridged abdomen were taut as Nero watched Kyrie finally roll the condom onto him. She was practically an expert at it now, having put the condom on for him countless times ever since their first time when Nero had accidentally shredded the thin rubber.

            “Can I eat you?” Nero murmured against lips soft as petals. He had actually meant to ask ‘can I have you?’ but he guessed it didn’t matter.

            “Yes, my hungry wolf.” Kyrie whispered back, giving him a tender kiss of approval.

            Gentle hands slid up his biceps and gripped his shoulders while Nero slid his hands up the white stockings until he felt creamy, warm flesh beneath the folds of her skirt. He drew her body in closer until he was neatly snug in the cradle of her legs, feeling her hot core press against his base.

            Nero glanced down at the golden, four-winged pendant lying between Kyrie’s breasts, the fiery crystal glinting like a frozen flame. As if thinking the same thing, she reached up to touch the two-winged pendant lying against his own chest. Then her hand slid up his throat until Kyrie was cupping Nero’s cheek. There was a silent question in her touch that had him answering with a gentle kiss to her brow bone.

            Warm amber gazed lovingly at icy blue as Nero nudged at Kyrie’s wet entrance in warning before slowly pushing forward. Kyrie’s mouth fell open but she continued to meet Nero’s stare, inch after inch after inch until his hips pressed against hers.

            Finally, Nero released the groan he’d been holding, and it rumbled deep from his chest, almost becoming a low, gratifying snarl at the end.

            Her ruby skirt remained bunched around her waist when Nero pulled back before gently thrusting back in, slowly but firmly to allow Kyrie enough time to adjust. He eyed the way she bit her bottom lip, face flushed red like the shade of her costume and amber eyes glinting with the first bouts of ecstasy.

            Nero thrusted again, a bit harder than before, and Kyrie whimpered with pleasure.

            He dove down to capture a rosy breast tip in his mouth and thrust forth again, slowly building the pace that always left Kyrie panting and eyes glazed with contentment. She rewarded him with a voracious moan when he ground against her deepest spot and the sound sent a pleasant trill down to his groin.

            Legs clad in stocking wrapped tighter around his waist, prompting Nero to thrust a tad harder, ignoring the sounds of the sofa cushions squeaking slightly each time he entered Kyrie. It was even harder to ignore the sensation of his fake wolf’s tail thumping his backside with every thrust once Nero faintly realized he’d forgotten to remove the tail… as well as the doggy ears he still wore.

            “ _Hah.. haah.. Nero!_ ” Kyrie moaned out, tossing her head back and raking her hands across his back, unable to restrain herself anymore.

            The silky folds of her skirt tickled Nero’s solid muscles as he held his lover close, demon claws leaving little rips along her stocking as he pressed Kyrie’s thigh closer to his hips. The tail continued hitting his backside as he sped up his thrusting, giving Kyrie’s breast tip one last lick only so that the hunter could attack her slender neck next. Caramel tresses tickled his cheek as Nero nipped Kyrie’s throat again, eliciting a small yelp from his lover when he bit a little hard. Kyrie’s scent, mingling with the scent of her arousal, overloaded Nero’s senses and it was all the devil hunter could do to hold back his more demonic urges.

            Warm. Kyrie was so warm and soft and Nero felt like he was melting into her. The only thing grounding him to reality was the feel of her velvet flesh enveloping him, and the sweet sounds she made every time he thrusted, or kissed her, or even just held her a little tighter.

            Reaching right beneath her bunched skirt drew out a sharp cry from Kyrie and Nero watched her furrow her brows together as he edged her closer and closer to climax. Their bodies continued to dance together in harmony, a push and pull force gravitated together by the bonds of love. They had danced to this song many times before already, and the hunter recognized the signs she gave him. The signs only Nero knew. He continued to press his thumb between her thighs even as she finally found release, voicing it out in a song of sexual bliss. Nero slowed down his thrusting, feeling her tight walls convulse around him. He paced himself deliberately, tucking a stray strand of caramel hair sticking to Kyrie’s sweaty temple.

            His hips continued to roll against Kyrie’s, even as she struggled to catch her breath.

            His hips continued to roll, leisurely but eagerly, even when Kyrie grabbed the nape of his sweaty neck and pull Nero down for a loving kiss.

            His hips continued to roll, even when Nero felt the raging ecstasy in his groin start to echo across his body, resounding and strong.

            Steadily, Nero’s hips rolled and undulated and pressed against Kyrie’s, eager to repeatedly bury himself in her welcoming warmth. The pendant around his neck swung sharply, back and forth, back and forth, and Nero thought back to the idea of the both of them having collared one another in this way. If he could blush even more, he would have, but his face was already hot enough as it was.

            Meanwhile, gentle hands wandered across his toned body as if Kyrie was discovering him for the first time. Nimble fingers touched every scar decorating his alabaster skin, eliciting another growl from the hunter. She swept a hand across his sculpted torso, tracing every pronounced ridge of his abs, feeling them flex as he thrusted. Then, Kyrie danced her hand higher until it rested over the swell of his pec. Her eyes fluttered shut as she felt his heart thumping in the palm of her hand, quick and insistently.

            Nero watched his lover—his Red Riding Hood—his Kyrie—through half-lidded eyes, letting her touch him anywhere and everywhere he and she pleased.

            Every time somehow seemed to be reminiscent of their first time. Shy, longing gazes, kisses lingering with silent questions, and exploratory touches. So much touching. As if one couldn’t believe she was in his arms like this and the other still in awe of the demon who was more human than most others. So much touching to make sure they were living a reality together and not just a dream of desire.

            A loud roar suddenly ripped its way out of Nero as he came, strong hips jerking sloppily between Kyrie’s thighs. It was the kind of roar that would have frightened both man and child, Halloween costume or no. Yet, Kyrie simply craned her beautiful face up to nuzzle her nose with Nero’s. Two tender lovers showing their love for one another.

            Nero collapsed, catching himself at the last minute to prevent Kyrie from being crushed. Quickly, he tugged the condom off and tied its end while she made space for him on the couch, squeezing in between him and the backrest. Breathing hotly against Kyrie’s neck, he wrapped his arms around her, mindful of his Devil Bringer. Kyrie locked Nero’s arms around her stomach, unconcerned of the claws grazing the soft flesh of her belly.

            “That was a tasty treat.” He panted, making a show of licking his chops.

            “I told you,” Kyrie’s voice was still breathless and soft, but also teasing, “good, handsome boys get the best treat.”

            “Woof…” Nero nuzzled his lover’s neck, breathing in her scent and the lingering smell of her arousal. “Now, about that pumpkin pie…”

            She laughed, turning around in his arms to grasp the pair of doggy ears still resting on the hunter’s head. Reaching around, she also unclipped the fake tail Nero had worn the entire time. He kissed the top of her head, hearing his costume accessories thump onto the coffee table. A warm hand cupped his jaw, thumb caressing the angle of his chin.

            “My wolf.” Kyrie whispered to him before leaning in to give another rewarding kiss.

            The taste of artificial cherry lingered on Nero’s tongue after she withdrew. The flavor of candy wasn’t something he was a fan of, but this was a taste he could get used to with enough kisses.

            “Woof.” Nero murmured again with a smirk before seeking Kyrie’s warm lips for another kiss.

            While the neighborhood children slept in their beds for the night, tucked in and bellies filled with candy, the wolf laid claim to his Red Riding Hood once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **HAPPY HALLOWEEN 2018!**
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> The next chapter for the main story will resume next weekend.


	9. Saudade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Saudade _(n)_ : a deep, emotional state of nostalgic or profound melancholic longing for an absent something or someone that one loves.**

            “So,” The demon prowled across the courtyard, regarding the young man like a predator eyeing its next victim, “you’re the human boy who’s been running around enslaving demons.”

            V stood still, leaning on his cane for support and remaining a good distance away from the large beast that was the size of a house. The four-clawed feet of the demon thumped on the pavement, leaving cracks everywhere it stepped. Red talons, each as large as a bicycle, tapped the ground every time the demon paused as if to test its prey and see if it would run.

            “You’re punier than I expected.” Abraxas bared yellow fangs, gnashing his teeth together in ire. Violet eyes focused on V, black slits dilating in focus. “Nothing like that Son of Sparda, but I could still make use of your blood.”

            “A pity.” V sighed, stepping over to rest on a bench behind himself, ignoring the rubble everywhere else. “I suppose you won’t let me walk away without a fight. If it’s a fight you want, know that I’ll be the one walking out of it.”

            “You?” The demon raised its snout up to bark out a laugh, blue flames licking up its throat with the harsh sound. When it finished, its gravelly voice came out in a low purr to accompany the forked tongue licking its chops. “A cripple like you will die legless and crawling for mercy before our fight will even finish!”

            Holding out a gloved hand, V smirked at the beast before him. “I never said I would fight you.”

            Inky black tattoos swirled across V’s body and he grit his teeth at the slight burn of the movement. One mark on his forearm shimmered with light before disappearing altogether. A split second after, a large pool of bloody darkness sprouted from the ground between Abraxas and V.

A dark figure shot up from the darkness, icy stone wings spread out as the figure soared high before lowering back down, swishing its pointed tail side to side.

            She looked nearly human in shape, save for the wings and tail and the single black horn curling forth from the top of her head, mixing in with cerulean flames. She seemed to be wearing nothing but her own pale blue skin. Icy black armor curled around her breasts and the apex of her thighs. Her bluish skin became dark fur near the large hooves the demoness had for feet. Hooves that were stained with a fresh coat of coagulated blood.

            “Asmodai!” Abraxas snarled, taking in the she-devil wielding a lance seemingly made of ice and metal. “You serve this worthless human?”

            “Make quick work, Asmodai.” V gestured with his cane.

            White, pupilless eyes glanced at him. The summoned demon nodded before zipping over, quick as lightning, twisting around to deliver a sharp kick with a single hoof. Abraxas stumbled back, crashing into the empty, ivory building beside him.

            “I WILL KILL YOU!” The behemoth roared, jagged jaws opening to release a shot of violet fire.

            V gestured with his hand and Asmodai braced the lance in her clawed grasp, meeting the flames head on even as she threw the lance straight into the demon’s gaping mouth. A chorus of screams rose up into the air, one deep and the other pitched. The flames stopped, and Asmodi fell to the pavement below, black and blue in color.

            “Get up.” V ordered the demoness.

            Asmodai hissed through her fangs but obeyed, standing up on two hooves. “You could have summoned Valac for this.”

            “Is that how you talk to your future king?” V tipped a brow, ignoring the slight burning sensation where his skin was absent of a certain tattoo.

            “I am not your bitch to come at your beck and call, human!” Asmodai stamped a hoof on the ground, causing small fissures and patches of ice to spread out.

            Smirking, V wordlessly raised his hand again and the demoness began to shriek profanity before she dissipated like smoke in the wind. V glanced at the tattoo glowing on his forearm and returning back into an inky black, shifting the other markings aside. Still ignoring the pricking sensation of his arm, V hobbled across the courtyard to study the frozen behemoth, its jaws still stuck open and flames frozen between its fangs.

            “I told you I would be the one to walk away from this.”

            “A cowardly human... using a demon to fight and shield him…” A violet eye stared at him with fury. “That’s not... possible.”

            “Why do all you demons seem so surprised?” V shook his head, leaning on his cane to stare up at the Abraxas. “Is it because I am not a son of Sparda? Well, you’ll be even more surprised once I, a human, become the King of the Underworld.”

            A strained chuckle rumbled out of the scaled demon. “Urizen... would take the fruit for himself... before ever letting a human bo.... become King of Hell.”

            “Well,” V smiled, drawing out a book from thin air, “then it’s a good thing you’re going to help me with that.”

            In its last final moments of freedom, the demon, Abraxas, let out one more roar that was enough to crack the ice encasing him. However, it could not escape in time to prevent the young man from muttering a certain incantation out of the book he held.

            A moment later, V started to hobble his way out of the courtyard, sporting a new tattoo squeezed in between the other markings that stained his pale skin. The new mark glowed for a hot second before settling down to mix in with all the other inky black tattoos.

            Squinting at the sun beginning to set, the summoner was able to make out the growing shape that swooped in a few seconds later. The bird squawked loudly in V’s ear, sapphire wings bristling in a panic.

            “I didn’t think a son of Sparda would actually mate with a human.” V murmured, rubbing his chin in thought. “But if she is pregnant with the demon’s heir, then this could be easier than I thought… Sparda’s blood is extremely potent in power; just a single drop would—”

            The bird squawked again.

            “Nero would go berserk if I were to lay a hand on this Kyrie? Yes, he is dangerous... Still, that’s a risk I’m willing to take. At least he is no Dante.”

            Its beak clacked sharply several times.

            “Compassion? For a pregnant human woman or because she loves the young demon?” V shook his head disapprovingly. “You always were a sap, old friend. I should never have read you Shakespeare… Nonetheless, Nero’s mate means nothing when the whole world is at stake.”

            A louder squawk again, this time defiant.

            “It’s a pity, but it’s a necessary sacrifice.” V argued back, “If she doesn’t make it to full term soon enough, then I’ll have no choice but to take  Nero’s heir by force.”

            Sapphire wings brushed hard against V’s cheek as the small companion screeched painfully loud.

            V looked at his familiar with ire. “Nero should have known better than to fall in love with a human and mate with her. If only demons weren’t so troubling… Although, I suppose I can’t blame him. He’s only taking what he desires.. Anything that brings joy to a man would be utterly desirable. Even more so for a demon. Still, he certainly would never let me anywhere near his lover.... I must act swiftly while the hunters are occupied with Qliphoth.”

            The bird squawked again, but this time more quietly.

            “What?! No!” V stopped suddenly, gripping his cane tightly. “Why did you not say this earlier?! Urizen cannot be trusted. If he uses Dante’s blood to let Qliphoth blossom, then the fruit will be up for the taking—by _anyone_ …. No, I must stop Dante. Take me to him!”

 

* * *

 

            “—or maybe I could take that job down at Waluga island.” Dante muttered to himself, trekking his way through the empty street that seemed to be absent of the more technological architecture that made up most of Red Grave city. “Yeah, the cash isn’t so bad, and it’s just one demon—I could clean it up there pretty quickly.”

            A Fetish sprinted towards him from a shadowy alleyway and, without missing a beat, Dante sliced it apart with Sparda. He was already several steps ahead by the time it stopped screeching.

            “Or maybe that job at Olive City?” The Son of Sparda rubbed his beard thoughtfully as he considered what other jobs he could take afterward. Ones that didn’t require that much effort but could still make a dent in his debts. “They had really good pizza at that joint. Maybe the owner—”

            A large shadow enveloped him and Dante paused his stream of thought to look up at the wall of roots that blocked his path. It seemed to be alive, twisting and tangling together to create an impenetrable wall. Bulbs of blood throbbed like little lights as the roots shifted, alert of Dante’s presence.

            He sighed. “Yeah, I’m not climbing that.”

            A quick pivot around and he sensed movement at his back. He moved faster than the root could stab right where he’d just been standing. Several well-aimed shots with Ebony and Ivory burst the blood banks peppering the root and it seemed to shrivel once the balloons of blood splattered onto the road. With a flick of his wrist, Dante split the root down to its core using Sparda.

            “Whatever,” he shrugged, continuing on, “I was gonna take a detour anyway.”

            Said detour turned out to be a crumbling bridge littered with vehicles turned over and shoved aside like garbage on trash day. Once he had made it over what was once considered a road, Dante slowed down at the sight of the crumbling building before him. The inside could be seen just as easily as the outside, showing the bits of furniture like chairs and mahogany desks flipped over or on their sides. The ivory building seemed to be missing pieces of its structure as if some large beast had decided to take some chomps off of it here and there. The pathway through didn’t seem to be the most obvious, but no detour was ever made obvious.

            “I’m not a fan of ruins.” Dante sighed aloud, hearing his voice echo through the silence, “I like my cities lively.”

            As he expected, nobody answered him back and he continued to leap over the monstrous roots that had infected the building from the inside out. Eyeing the bulbs of blood throbbing on a root, Dante clambered onto a ledge and stepped over a fallen chair. Parchments of paper littered what was left of the floor. Maybe this place used to be a government building or some kind of office.

            He could imagine young and old people alike in plain business suits, running around to finish errands and tasks. A desk phone would let out a shrill ring every now and then just before getting cut off. And maybe the workers here enjoyed their beehive structure. Maybe they had been in the middle of work, typing out emails or reviewing documents when Qliphoth rooted itself in their city.

            Had they then paused their busy lives to question the existence of such a tree? Had they laid their eyes upon Qliphoth and wonder if it was a God-sent gift to humanity? And when the demons began their attacks, had the people prayed to their gods for salvation and hope?

            “What a pain in the ass.” Dante grumbled to himself upon finding a thick, throbbing mass of roots blocking his only way through. He reached for Sparda at his back. “Just gotta take it down.”

            The roots seemed to curl back on their own as soon as the blade sliced across like a weed whacker. The tiled platform Dante had been standing on suddenly tilted aside and he braced his feet, following the momentum to slide across the floor and down into the next floor below. A cloud of dust arose where he landed, filtering past the slivers of sunlight peeking through the shattered floor-length windows. Coughing, Dante waved the dust clear of his face only to groan at the sight of another wall of roots.

            This time, bulbous banks of blood beat like a single heart at the base of the wall. He carefully measured himself a good distance away before striking the blood banks with Sparda again. Blood exploded like party confetti and Dante stepped aside before a particularly large amount could splash on his worn boots.

            Like a flower deprived of water and nutrients, the roots gradually became drained of color. Black and red, mutilated flesh gave way to an ashy white, traveling across the length of the roots until they seemed to be more of stone than flesh. A slight tap with a foot had the whole wall crumbling down, raising up even more dust and ash that had Dante in a coughing fit once more.

            “I bet the janitors are getting a huge raise for this mess.” Dante muttered, leaping off the last platform to land onto the road below.

            The street signs were either illegible at this point or had been knocked off during the chaos. It was pretty much pointless to use a map to find out where to go. At least a city like this one had plenty of landmarks to go by. Red and white construction cranes peppered the city all over, standing guard beside half-finished or half-demolished buildings. Residence areas surrounded the center of the city where skyscrapers overlooked the whole place like a kingdom of its own. And at the heart of the kingdom resided Qliphoth where Urizen awaited to coronate the next King of Hell.

            Without warning, the air seemed to crackle with energy and then the space before Dante ripped apart. Red sizzled like molten lava at the edges of the portal that had split open.

            “Oh, great,” Dante withdrew Sparda once more as a gang of Hell Cainas poured through, “you found me.”

            The robed skeletons hissed in greeting before parting aside as a Hell Judecca slithered out the portal as well. It had more of a body than the Hell Cainas under its command. That is if one could call the slithering purple slime engulfing its bony frame like living tissue a body at all.

            Double white hot scythes glowed where its hands should have been and Dante rolled aside as both scythes shot towards him, purple tentacles stretching out.

            As soon as he rolled to his feet, he ducked and sidestepped from the handheld scythes of the other two demons. He feinted left, tripping one of the Hell Cainas. At the corner of his eye, Dante noticed a tentacle dancing high in the air and he slid across the pavement to avoid getting shish-kebabbed. The scythe slammed into the ground like a shovel digging into dirt, leaving cracks around its mark. Ignoring the Hell Judecca for now, Dante focused on the tripped demon still struggling to stand upright.

            Sparda ripped through bones and darkness and tattered robes. The demon’s body trembled on the ground as it was ripped into nothingness.

            Pivoting around, Dante instantly blocked the next attack with a royal guard stance. Across the arena, the Hell Judecca hovered side to side as if assessing Dante while he took care of the second Hell Caina.

            The blade of Sparda cracked through the bones of the demon in multiple, quickfire stabs. Dante slashed the Hell Caina high into the air before finishing it off with several shots from Ebony and Ivory. Upon landing back down, he sensed the last demon creeping at his back and rolled again to avoid becoming minced meat.

            After putting enough distance, he positioned Sparda horizontally like a fencer and then dove forward in a charge attack. The Hell Judecca blocked with both scythes covering its purple mass like a shield. It went on to wrap itself with its scythed limbs and Dante stepped away in caution just as the demon spun itself in a deadly tornado of blades and energy.

            Interestingly enough, as soon as its rotations finished, Dante noticed its scythes were no longer glowing white hot and he took advantage of the moment to charge forward again with Sparda. It reeled back when he slashed through and, in the blink of an eye, it disappeared. No sooner after it had ghosted, it appeared again, a couple of yards away.

            “Woah!” Dante jumped aside when the demon’s scythes shot towards him once more. “Almost got me there.”

            Not willing to be the chaser here, Dante pulled out Coyote-A instead. The familiar recoil of the shotgun continued several times as he shot the Hell Judecca over and over. Each hit made it keel and disappear, then reappear elsewhere only to receive another round to its gut. The both of them seemed to tire of this game of hide-and-seek and Dante was glad when it reappeared behind him in close quarters.

            He swiveled around with Sparda at the ready and the Hell Judecca tumbled backward before it could finish charging up its next attack. This time, it didn’t move again, and the purple slithering mass engulfing its body dulled into a dark inky blue. Darkness arose from its body as the demon slowly seeped into the pavement, a pool of blackness eating it back up into Hell.

            Hefting Sparda onto his back, he continued onward for half a block until he found another wall of roots blocking his way. With a sigh, he looked to the side, considering the ruined building with a collapsed roof, providing him an alternate route for his convenience. He wasted no time in stepping over the rubble and leaping across, higher and higher until he reached a platform overlooking the other side of the city.

            Something moved in the shadows around him and Dante reached for Sparda once more. The figure appeared and the sight of the demon made Dante pause.

            “You look familiar.” Dante rubbed his chin in thought. “Have we met before?”

 

* * *

 

            “I dunno, he was pretty shady looking if you ask me.”

            “I betcha he ain’t a real cripple and that he’s one of ‘em frauds who have a fake disability card. Shoulda tripped him just to be sure.”

            “I’m not gonna trip a cripple.”

            “Well, if he goes tripping on his own two feet, then we’ll know for sure.” Nico spoke around the cigarette tucked in her mouth. “Any guy who goes by the name of V is suspicious enough.”

            “He wants me to meet up at the chapel down at the East District.” Nero fingered the scrap of paper he’d found in his jacket pocket. He hadn’t seen when V was able to slip the note in at some point but the neat handwriting of Dante’s client was unmistakably his. “Sounds sketchy, I know.”

            “You sure he ain’t just a creepy, secret admirer who wants to marry you?” Nico tossed a teasing look at the devil hunter, knowing he was popular with the clients in terms of looks.

            “Heh,” Nero returned the look to his partner, “I’ll let him know _you’re_ single.”

            “Nah, I’m already married to my work.”

            At that comment, Nero glanced at the prosthetic he wore, flexing the mechanical digits. He’d gotten used to wearing these Devil Breakers and, he had to admit, these were probably Nico’s best creations yet. The style and power that every Devil Breaker could bring to the table were only as limited as her imagination—of which she had plenty. Nonetheless, every time he looked to his right side, a spike of anger would shoot through his chest like an arrow and he’d remember that bastard who had ripped the Devil Bringer right off him.

            “So, tell me.” Taking his feet off the dashboard, Nero stood up from his seat to head over to the jukebox at the back. Most of the tunes were of Nico’s picks but there were some that Nero enjoyed as well.

            “Tell ya what?”

            “How’s it feel to be rescuing the guy who killed your father?” He eyed the panel and then tapped a button to play a chill beat song that acted more as ambiance rather than as actual music.

            “I’m mad he didn’t invite me in person.” Nico said almost in a pouty manner. There was a pause, and Nero waited until his partner added, “Well, he abandoned my mother and I and left us for dead… So, _I feel nothin’_!”

            Nero walked back to his seat and, tapping the arm of his partner in good nature, he joked, “Well, he’s not exactly going up for Father of the Year Award, now is he?”

            “Yours and mine both.” Nico let out a puff of smoke that filled the car once more, prompting Nero to lean closer to the open window. “So, _you_ tell _me_ …”

            “Tell ya what?” Nero propped his boots up on the dashboard once again, reaching by his seat to crack open a bottle of water.

            “When are _you_ gonna be a father?”

            The stream of cool water went down the wrong pipe as Nero choked on the drink, sputtering for air and spilling a mouthful of the liquid all over his front. Nico glanced at him in amusement as she waited for his fit of coughs to die down enough.

            “What are you talking about?” Nero demanded, picking at the sopping wet front of his shirt in annoyance.

            “What? You don’t wanna be called ‘daddy’?” Nico snickered, enjoying Nero’s reaction from all of this. “Or you only want Kyrie to call you ‘daddy’? I get it—”

            “I—we’re—”

            “What happens in the bedroom—”

            “—Kyrie and I—”

            “—stays in the bedroom.”

            “—we don’t—”

            “Ain’t no shame in kinks.”

            “We’re not expecting!” Nero answered firmly, giving Nico a hard look. “Kids. We’re not expecting kids.”

            “‘Cause you don’t _want_ kids? Or…”

            Nero was silent for a moment, staring out the window to focus on nothing in particular. He pressed his knuckles against his mouth in thought, contemplating how to put into words exactly what he was feeling.

            Nico, to be honest, was an easy person to talk to. Of course, Kyrie was as well, and Nero would never keep a secret from his lover. However, there were some things that were easier to spill out to Nico, especially when it pertained to his relationship with Kyrie. Where Kyrie knew exactly what kind of sugared words to say in comfort, Nico knew how to get people to word vomit their feelings.

            “Yeah, I do want to have kids with Kyrie…” Nero finally admitted. Softly and quietly so that his insecurities could not be noticed in the inflections of his voice. He scratched the bridge of his nose; it was a habit he had since he was a child. To anyone who knew him well enough, it was a dead give away of his shyness.

            Who _didn’t_ want to have kids with the love of their life?

            “Have ya talked to her ‘bout it?” Nico suggested. “Some couples plan it years ahead. Others, well, they jump right in.”

            Of course, Nero had always given it thought. He wasn’t sure when but, at some point in their relationship, the idea of starting their own family together had planted itself in the back of Nero’s mind. It grew like a seed stuck in the shade, neglected there but not forgotten.

            Sometimes, when returning from a job, he’d imagine what it would be like to come home to Kyrie and their children... To pick them up in his arms and hear that innocent sound of laughter and joy ring in his ears. And every time he visited the orphanages with Kyrie to play with the kids, he’d wonder if this is how he’d play with his own children.

            Would they clamber onto his back for a ride? Scream in excitement and latch onto his legs upon arrival? What would it be like to come home late from work and find his wife reading a bedtime story to their children?

            What would it be like.. to be called ‘daddy’?

            …. To be a father?

            Something he himself never had and never will have.

            “I dunno how to talk to Kyrie about it.” Nero sighed in defeat, fingering the pendant around his neck. “We never.. talked about having kids, but I know she’s always wanted to start a family together, someday. We both do. I just... How do we have kids when I’m a devil hunter? I slay demons for a living. What kind of a father does that?”

            “A stupid, cool dad with a badass arm.” Nico answered as if it was that plain and simple. She peered at Nero before rolling her eyes. “You’re thinking too hard ‘bout it, idiot. If you wanna make some babies with Kyrie then make some babies! Geez, you mope over it like your wife is gonna give birth to the second Christ. Just don’t be a damn asshole and leave at the first sign of poo. Got that?”

            Nero frowned and then gave Nico the side-eye. “Why’re you suddenly all up in my ass about this? I know you’re not _that_ excited to be around kids.”

            “What?” The craftswoman glared at him. “Ya don’t think I can be a cool aunt?”

            “Don’t worry,” Nero smiled wryly, “I think you got the whole tattooed chain-smoker look down.”

            “Heh,” Nico grinned, “don’t go beggin’ me to babysit your little devils when you get tired of having your spawns run amok, asshole.”

            Little devils… Suddenly, he imagined his kids running around the house with their tails whipping back and forth. Nah, they wouldn’t have tails… would they? Did his father have a tail? What about horns? Claws? What if his children inherited Devil Bringers of their own? Would Kyrie be fine with that?

 _How could I ask that of her?_ To ask if she would bear his children—the children of a demon… How could Nero ask the love of his life to give birth to his demon babies?

            Insecurity began to knot within Nero’s stomach, twisting and churning at the thought that.. perhaps Kyrie didn’t want to have his children? What if she didn’t want to give birth to babies with demonic features and abilities? Nero would never force Kyrie to bear children for him—let alone consider such a disgusting thought—but…

 _No._ A resounding voice in the back of his mind cut through the haze of panic. _She loves all of you for you. Not for the way you look or what you are. Kyrie is yours, and you are hers_.

            Nero touched the two-winged pendant hanging from his neck and all of his doubts disappeared right then and there. That’s right. They both loved each other more than enough to desire starting their own family together. He swallowed hard. And if Kyrie gave birth to little demons because of his bloodline then—screw it—he knew they were both going to love those lil’ monsters just as fiercely.

            Because he had learned to accept himself just as Kyrie had accepted him.

            “Heh…. an asshole father and a cool aunt.” Nero eventually sighed, pushing the window button to close it up. The air was beginning to fill with the stench of guts, blood, and other substances that was not pleasant to the nose. “And neither of us ever really had a father. Great.”

            “So _that’s_ what you’re worried about.” Nico rolled her eyes even harder until she had to push her glasses back up. “For a guy who can casually slay demons like some exterminator, you’re a real pussy when it comes to havin’ kids with Kyrie. And here I thought you were just scared of havin’ to change diapers.”

            “Like you’re one to talk.”

            “Hey, my marriage partner and I already make the best creations.” Nico nodded to Nero’s prosthetic. “You’re wearin’ one right now.”

            Said marriage partner being her workbench…

            “Kyrie’s on birth control, right?”

            Nero looked at his partner sharply. “How do you know that?”

            “‘Cause lately there have been no boxes of condoms hidden all around the house.” Nico snorted, unashamed to be so upfront about the truth. Not to mention that Nico had several times witnessed Kyrie popping a pill the past few months ago. “Look, you’re a married couple already. Not a pair of horny teens with a cockblocking brother and his holy virgin sis. Man up and talk to her. Just go, ‘hey, Kyrie, you want kids, I want kids, let’s go to the bedroom’.”

            “You say it like it’s that easy.”

            “‘Cause it _is_ , dummy.” Nico retorted, pulling hard on the steering wheel to round a sharp curve. “What, you have a hard time gettin’ it up or something? If you’d rather make some excuse to save the world from hell because you’re too pussy to go home to your wife and make some babies and change stinky diapers, then be my guest. I’m sure Kyrie can just visit the orphanage and bring back a kid. And your neighbor, frat boy—what’s his name?”

            “Elijah?” Nero held back a scowl. “What about him?”

            “Kyrie doesn’t see it but Frat Boy is really into her.” Nico tipped a brow at her partner. “Not sayin’ Kyrie is gonna cheat on you, but that guy is a helluva wolf in sheep’s skin lookin’ to get into your wife’s panties. Believe me, I know a predator when I see one.”

            Nero didn’t know what to say at that. All of that. Nico never spoke of his neighbor since she hardly had reason to but, somehow, he believed every word she said about that man. And the thought of another man—didn’t matter if he was human—touching Kyrie made Nero’s blood boil like a volcano.

            Over the years of living with Kyrie at his side, he’d learned to tame his quick temper. It was easier to control his emotions now that he was older and no longer a teen with too many insecurities. But whenever it came to Kyrie, Nero was dangerously volatile. Imagining another man touching Kyrie—possibly harming her—was enough to send Nero into a frenzy. _If_ it did happen. For now, holding his necklace as he breathed in controlled breaths was enough to keep him as calm as he could be.

            Slowly, Nero turned to squint at the genius craftswoman. “What makes you say that?”

            “Really?” Nico tossed him a pointed look. “Ya don’t see the way he eyes her all.. funny? I mean, he sorta gives _you_ a funny look too sometimes. I dunno, maybe he’s into that kinky shit.”

            Nero did notice it. He just never brought it up to Nico because he thought she’d just tease him of his jealousy. And he never expressed his concern to Kyrie because she thought such overt kindness was just the sort of man Elijah was. Had Nero said anything, he would’ve just been the jealous husband who could slay demons but felt threatened by a mere human man.

            But Nero did tell Kyrie one thing.

 

_'He smells funny.’_

_‘Elijah?’ Kyrie looked down at the demon slayer resting his head on her lap. ‘He smells fine?’_

_‘No, it’s…’ Nero sighed in frustration, ‘it’s hard to explain… but there’s always a funky scent on him when he’s around.’_

_‘Well, what does he smell like to you?’_

_'I dunno… kind of metallic.’_

_‘Maybe Elijah works cars like you do?’ Kyrie suggested, gently combing her fingers through the silver strands of his cropped hair._

_‘What do you smell?’_

_Kyrie shrugged. ‘Cologne. Sandalwood and musk… something salty.’_

_‘Hm… You smell like cinnamon and cookies.’ Nero began to explain, fingering a caramel lock of hair. He turned his head on her lap to face Kyrie’s torso, nose nearly pressing against her stomach. He breathed in exactly what he was describing. ‘You smell like that to everyone else too, but you also have another scent that only I can pick up.’_

_Kyrie tipped her head in curiosity. ‘What is it?’_

_‘I… I can’t describe it.’ Nero looked away, feeling the tips of his ears redden._

_His wife smiled softly at him. ‘You know what you smell like, Nero?’_

_Blood and demon guts? ‘Hm?’_

_Her hand caressed his chiseled jaw and she leaned down to kiss his forehead. ‘Like fresh snow falling down so gently before the wind scatters it away…. Like pine carrying the morning dew under a new dawn.’_

_‘So...’ Nero’s lips began to turn up slightly. ‘I smell good?’_

_Kyrie nodded, running a hand through his short hair again._

_'Then why aren’t you kissing me more?’ The devil hunter smirked, shifting slightly on the couch for a better position._

_Smiling at the request in his question, Kyrie leaned down to oblige her husband, giving him exactly what he desired, and more._

 

            “That’s it then. No more wheels from here.”

            The van rolled to a stop at the edge of some broken off piece of road. Yellow caution tape crisscrossed the ledge as a warning, peppered with water droplets from last night’s sudden shower.

            Taking another second to rest in the chair in thought, Nero then dragged himself out of the chair. “All right, guess I’m walking then.”

            He was glad the conversation had been cut short. All this talk about fathers and kids had made him feel weird. Not necessarily uncomfortable though. Nero had long gotten past the fact that he was an orphan whose parents had abandoned him the moment he was born (or even long before his birth). He didn’t hate telling people that he had no father and never knew him because, to be honest, Nero didn’t care about his father. Whoever his father was, that man obviously never wanted Nero and probably would have sucked ass as a parent.

            No, if he hadn’t been an orphan, then Nero would never have met Kyrie’s family. Worse, he would have never met Kyrie and had the chance to fall in love with her and be loved in return.

            However, now that Nero desired to sire children of his own, he couldn’t help but wonder what sort of man his own father had been… and why did he leave?

            “Yo, yo, yo!” Nico got up as well to walk to the back of the motorhome. “Check it out!”

            “What?” Nero followed his partner, watching her swipe something off the table.

            She pivoted to press the thing against his chest, stopping him in his tracks. A quick glance down at what she held out to him revealed an envelope sealed with red wax.

            “And this is?”

            “From Morrison.” Nico answered, crossing her arms once he took the papers. “I think it’s his manifesto.”

            “I’ll check it out later.” Nero tucked the papers into his jacket, patting it securely against his chest. A chill breeze swept in, carrying sprinkles of water from the earlier rain shower as Nero slid open the door. “Better go before I’m late to that date with my secret admirer.”

            “I’ll let Kyrie know she can sign off those divorce papers.”

            Nero flipped her off in response.

            “Hey, pussy!” Nico called out to him just as he ducked beneath the caution tape.

            He looked back expectantly.

            “Take care of those Devil Breakers! Those are _my_ babies!”

            The devil hunter rolled his eyes this time but pumped his prosthetic hand up into a fist for confirmation. He leaped over the ledge and down onto the desolate streets below.

 

* * *

 

            Tapping her cigarette outside her window, Nico stared through the windshield for a while longer before finally grabbing the phone off the panel beside the wheel. The small beep-beep-beep of the buttons joined the soft music of the jukebox and then followed the sound of several rings.

            “Nico?”

            “Hey, Kyrie,” The craftswoman rolled her window back up, “Nero’s out but he’s safe.”

            “Oh, thank goodness.” The voice on the other end let out a soft breath of relief. “And you? Are you safe as well?”

            “Yeah, don’t worry, the Minotaurus has got me covered. So, how’s the baby been comin’ along?”

            “Um, actually… I’m having _babies_.”

            Nico began to cough and she nearly dropped her cigarette in the process. “Y-You mean there’s gonna be _more_ than one little devil runnin’ around the house?”

            “Mhm! _Two_ little devils!” The sweet voice answered festively. There was a pause, and then, “Ah, they’re.. Um, they’re growing a bit fast… I… Nico, I’m scared. Nero isn’t here and—and I don’t know anything about demon biology and what if the babies….”

            Nico caught the break at the end of Kyrie’s words and she knew the soon-to-be-mommy was close to tears. “Honey, you need to pull yourself together. Satan and Jesus ain’t gonna pop outta you anytime soon. What? You gonna dump your babies if they have a tail or somethin’?”

            “No!” The other end of the line was defiant and firm. “I’ll love them.. Tail and claws and horns and.. everything their father has and doesn’t. I don’t care about that, but… I’m still scared. I.. I don’t know what to expect. There isn’t really a manual for human mothers bearing the children of a demon… And Nero doesn’t know that I’m pregnant.”

            “Just to be safe, Kyrie, you best expect giving birth to some claws, tails, and horns, honey. All of ‘em.” Nico simply said. “And if your babies got fangs too then… well, you can always use a bottle?”

            There were a few seconds of silence, and then the sweet voice burst into a fit of laughter. “You’re right, Nico. I’m just being silly.”

            “Nero will come home soon, don’t you worry now. He’ll definitely be in for a huge surprise though.” No pun intended.

            Poor guy was gonna come home from saving the world and having his arm ripped off, only to be hit with the reality that he was gonna be a father. Hah! Nico couldn’t wait to see Nero’s reaction.

            “Definitely huge... I can wait, I just don’t think the babies can…”

            “Tell those hellspawn to stay inside you a bit longer.” Nico smiled at the thought of those hellspawn running chaotically around the house. She paused, thinking solemnly, “Kyrie, it’s really messy out here. Nero won’t tell you ‘cause he doesn’t want ya to worry, but... It’s end-of-the-world shit. There are demons everywhere. You stay inside the house, all right?”

            “I will.” Kyrie sounded just as serious. “Nero sought out a priestess a few years ago to lay a protection spell on the house. I’ll be safe.”

            “Good… Ah, listen, about Nero… ya really think he’s ready to be a father?”

            “To be honest, I’m… not ready to be a mother….” Kyrie chuckled nervously through the phone. “I don’t think _anyone_ is ever really ready to be a parent. All you can do is hope for the best…. I wanted to tell Nero about this pregnancy. I wanted him to see my belly growing from our love… but he’s out there, fighting to keep me safe. To keep us all safe. And that’s the kind of man whom I want as the father of my children.”

            “Then I’ll make sure to bring that idiot home in one _whole_ piece.” Nico promised her dear friend, glancing at her own black and white nails that Kyrie had painted for her last week. She didn’t know what kind of magic that former songstress had worked on the manicure, but somehow Nico’s nails weren’t chipped or scratched at all from all the craftworks she put into. Suddenly, she chortled. “Can’t believe that asshole’s gonna be a father real soon… Just imagine it... Nero, demon slayer—”

            “—and diaper changer.” Kyrie giggled breathlessly.

            “Son of a demon. Wiper of poo!” Nico added. “Yeah, I got your numbskull covered, hon. You can count on me.”

            “Thanks, Nico.” She could practically sense Kyrie smiling from the other end of the line. “You take care of yourself too, okay?”

            “Yes, ma’am.”

            After she set the phone down, Nico took the time to draw out another cigarette from her pack. Reaching into the pocket of her seat, she flicked the lighter on and then returned it. Without opening the car window, she let out a fresh puff of smoke to fill the motorhome, letting the tobacco scent seep into the cushions of the chairs and the nooks and crannies of the Minotaurus.

            Flipping down the visor above her head, Nico carefully tugged out the thick manila envelope fit snug into the visor’s pocket with the help of a clip. The orange edges were worn but the contents slipped out into her hands, crisp and clean, if not a little worn out from age. She’d pored through the confidential Order documents Nero had let her borrow last week, but she wanted to review the whole material again. She was still amazed that her partner had been able to get his hands on these precious documents all those years ago. It was one of the few things he had taken along with him when moving out of Fortuna City with Kyrie.

            No doubt, there were many people who would love to get their hands on these papers. Not all of them bore the same good will Nero had. Hence why it had taken Nero a lot of convincing—and some bribing--to let Nico peek at them.

            It was interesting to see her father’s work, years in the making—years he’d chosen to spend for a religion instead of for his family—in her hands now.

            She began to sift through the pages and then stopped part way through, letting her eyes fall upon the title inked in black.

_‘Cross-breeding Trials’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the Game Awards is in early December and will show V's trailer but I just can't wait that long. So this is my guess of how V will fight since they said he summons demons. His fight scene in this chapter was hastily written just because I really don't know how to write his scenes since we barely know anything about him. For now, here's a crappy fight scene for him. Actually, I hate writing fight scenes in general just because they're so hard to write without having too much or too little detail.


	10. Announcement: What's Up!

Hi guys, just wanted to quickly pop in and say have no fear! I am STILL planning to continue this fic. I have several drafted chapters that just need to be polished before publication. I've already finished playing the game but I'm replaying it again to review any details I might want to incorporate into my fic. That said, while the game has already been released, I still plan on writing this fanfic exactly as I had always planned to write it _before_ the game's release. So while I will be incorporating story elements from the game itself, this fanfic will have major discrepancies here and there, especially towards the end. The ending will be totally different from the game ending.

Can't wait to continue this story! I plan to give some more spotlight to our leading ladies as well since they kind of got sidelined in the game. That said, let me know what you thought of the game if you've already played!


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